The Power Of Love
by mpkio2
Summary: Harry Potter finds a crying 3 year old in the Forbidden Forest and decides to look after the child. But what will Harry do when he discovers that he is looking after his greatest enemy? Harry adopts Tom fic. Harry/Tom. Post-HBP.
1. A Sorrowful Cry For Help

**A/N:**

**My first Harry Potter fanfiction is finally here!**

**Just some back info:  
This story occurred to me not too long ago when I became a Harry/Tom Shipper! (Come on people! They are perfect for each other! LOL). I was also inspired by some other Harry/Tom fics where Voldemort is de-aged to a toddler (Thanks for the inspiration guys!).**

**When I read the Harry/Tom stories I thought: "Hey! I can write something like this!" And now, 3 months later, here is the first chapter! Yay!**

**As the summary suggests, this story takes place after the sixth book "The Half-Blood Prince".  
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**Please be nice: this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction after all! :) **

**Sorry for bad spelling and grammar!**

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**Disclaimer: If I said I owned Harry Potter, J. would probably sue against me. So, I cannot say that I do own Harry Potter or any relating characters; J. owns them

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**The Power Of Love  
**Written by mpkio2

**Chapter 1  
****A Sorrowful Cry**

Harry Potter, The Boy Who lived, The Golden Boy, or what most people were referring to him nowadays as 'The Chosen One', trudged through the darkness, not caring where his feet were carrying him to. He didn't care where he would turn up, he didn't care at all. Not a bit...

His mind was blank, a haze. As if someone had hexed him with a Memory charm and had wiped part of his brain which controlled his body. Sure he remembered what happened that fretful night two weeks ago; how could he forget? It was the only thing on his mind, every other second when he wasn't being bothered by people telling him to re-counter his so-called "adventurous" tale which he and Professor Dumbledore embarked upon.

He still didn't want to believe what had happened that night; it still felt like a dream; after that night, everything felt like a dream to Harry, not completely sure what was reality and fake. And he hoped it was all fake; everything! But part of his brain, the part that was still rational told him otherwise. And no matter how much he wished for it to be a dream, there was no deny of what he knew was reality...

Dumbledore, the greatest sorcerer of all time, was dead...

That sentence still sent chills down his spine. He didn't believe it when he thought it in his head. The sentence sounded more like a joke than the actual truth. A joke that someone made up on the spot; but it wasn't a joke...and Harry, deep down knew this to be the truth. And even if he denied it to himself, thinking Dumbledore was still up in the grand castle that was Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry, sitting in his usual seat in the Grand Hall, re-telling an encounter he once had with a goblin named "Fairy", it wouldn't bring him back. Wishing did nothing but bring hope to people who couldn't do anything to make their dream come true.

And at times, Harry even forgot that he was even gone. Sometimes as he walked down the school corridors, he was sure he could hear that wise-elderly voice echoing throughout the corridor. And Harry still thought if he knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office, he would enter the grand room and find those kind gentle blue eyes behind half-moonlit spectacles, looking at Harry behind his desk. But Harry had to get these painful thoughts out of his head; they were false now, they weren't real anymore.

Harry had tried. Oh Merlin, had he tried! Hanging out with his friends could only take so much attention away from what you are truly thinking about. And his friends, Ron Weasly and Hermione Granger, could sense what was wrong with him. And every time Hermione (For some unknown reason to Harry) brought up the subject, Harry dropped it immediately and said he wanted some "alone time". And that was a week ago. Harry hardly saw his friends anymore. It wasn't like he didn't want to be with his friends; he did! If said, he wanted to be with them more than anything! But his mind, and heart, wouldn't let him...things were in the way, things were always in the way! Harry couldn't face his friends now, even though he knew they were so worried about him, he couldn't even bring it to himself to re-ensure them (Which would be a lie).

Harry spent most of his time in the Forbidden Forest. It was the perfect sanctuary for him to be on his own and reflect on his emotions. The darkness within the forest hid him from what he was feeling deep inside of himself; depression, sadness and darkness. He would rather be covered in darkness than to show it. The creatures in the forest were dangerous and he knew how sensitive the centaurs were if he accidently stood on part of their land. But Harry didn't care; he had his wand with him and with the way he was feeling, he would take on every centaur that came in contact with him.

But he hardly saw any creatures in the Forbidden Forest for Harry had his own little area that no other creature had discovered. Deep within the forest was a large old tree with a hole near the roots of the bark, and in this tree was a small clearing filled with grass and plants. Why no-one had discovered this hole, he didn't know. He just enjoyed the privacy he received and left it at that...

But right at this second, Harry was heading back to the castle. It was past mid-night and he needed some proper sleep. He knew Filch the caretaker, accompanied by his obedient helper, Mrs. Norris, would be on guard for the night. Though Harry had his trustworthy invisible-cloak with him and was confident he wouldn't be spotted. After all, he had gotten back into bed around one in the morning many times and Filch had never caught him, not once.

Harry was almost out of the darkness, seeing moonlight up ahead, readying to put on his invisibility-cloak. He would have done so as well, if he hadn't of heard a loud centaur roar somewhere deep in the forest accompanied by a spectacular away of dazzling green sparks which filled the sky over the dark forest below. Harry quickly put his invisibility-cloak into his pocket and took out his wand as he ran back into the darkness that swallowed him full.

Harry heard more yells, more roars, cries of pain and anger filled the air, as he ran in the direction of said noises. He could feel the magic and adrenaline pump through his blood; he hadn't felt like this since...that night. Harry stopped all of a sudden, wand lowered. Could he really go back into a battle? Right now? Here in the school? The memories were powerful and painful at the same time.

Harry sighed and turned back the other way, fear getting the best of him. But he stopped stock still when he heard a sound he wouldn't even guessed he would hear here in the forbidden forest. It was the last sound he ever excepted to hear in the forbidden forest; it was the cry from a child...

And at hearing this, Harry's Gryffindor-side kicked into full swing. He turned back in the direction of the roars, yells and...crying. More green sparks filled the air as Harry ran into the direction of the commotion. He was sure it was a child's yell he heard, he was sure of it. But what was a child doing here in the school, and at this time of the night!

More yells, more roars, more crying, more sparks filled the air...

Harry was getting closer, hearing the yells and roars grow in volume. By the sound of things, it sounded as if the centaurs were attacking a child. But Harry couldn't guess right now; he had to get there first. And anyway, he was probably wrong...

But cutting through two trees and finally arriving at the source of the commotion, Harry was surprised to find that his guess was correct. A heard of centaurs, ten in total were all gathering around something Harry couldn't see. Their bow and arrows was pointing down at whatever they were gathering. And when they heard Harry enter, they all looked at him with dark eyes.

"Human!" Came a thundering voice within the circle of centaurs. "Leave at once!"

Harry's eyes blinked as he replied with: "I'm sorry," He thought it would be best to show the centaurs some politeness as he was trespassing on their land. "It's just, I thought something bad had happened and I thought-"

"-That you would come onto our land and play the knight, did you?" The thundering voice replied. "Stupid, human. We centaurs can take care of ourselves, thank you, very much. We don't need the help of a student, not alone, a human! Now, return to the school!"

Harry had to tread lightly now; he didn't want to upset the centaurs further but, he still wanted to know what was happening. "It's just that, I heard a cry of a child, a human child. You didn't see one on your land, did you?" Harry asked in the politest way possible.

The heard of centaurs exchanged looks. And within the circle, a large centaur walked towards Harry on his four horse legs. Harry recognized the centaur straight away; it was Bane, the centaur he had met those many years ago, here in the Forbidden Forest.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, is it not?" Bane asked as he set his dark eyes on Harry. Harry merely nodded. "You've grown up strong, just as the stars said you would," Bane, obviously, was refereeing to the stars in the sky which the centaur heard had been studying and living by for many years. "You must leave now!"

Again, Harry spoke carefully. "I will, don't worry. I'm just curious to know if you have seen a child around here?"

"Curiosity will lead you in no good position, Potter," Bane said in a stern voice. "The stars have told me so. You must leave! Go, now! You are interrupting a very important gathering!"

"I will leave," Harry took a step back, and clutched his wand in his pocket. "I would just like to know if-"

"NO!" Bane bellowed as he stood only on his hind legs, kicking his other legs in the air. "Leave or I will be forced to shot!" And a large arrow was pointing directly at Harry's leg, a bow and arrow in Bane's hands.

Harry had no choice; he had to leave. He couldn't take on the whole centaur heard! They would kill him! But, wait, ten minutes ago he was sure he could kill them all! Was Harry as powerful as he lead on to be? No. Harry had to leave it at that...

And just as Harry was about to leave, he heard a soft, pleading cry. "Please," the voice started. "Help me!" The voice was coming in the middle of the circle of centaurs. Harry turned around and saw an arrow pointing at him...no, nine arrows were all pointing at him, and one was pointing in the middle of the circle.

"Leave now, Mr. Potter," Bane said in a stern voice, pulling the arrow he held, back more, targeting Harry.

There is a child in this forest and the centaurs had caught him in a circle. But, why? What had he done that upset them so? He was just a child! Children don't know better. This was wrong, all wrong. And Harry wasn't about to stand and let it happen.

Harry's wand was out in a flash, and in that flash, every single centaur had fired their awaiting arrow directly at Harry, which he deflected with many "_Pretago!_"'s. And at once Harry ran behind the nearest tree, arrows already being shot in his direction. Crying was heard and more sparks filled the sky; where was that coming from? But Harry had no time to ponder that thought, as a centaur charged towards him.

Harry started to run at full speed between the trees, a centaur on his heels, arrows being shot at him every second. Harry already had a plan and hoped to Merlin that it would work. He jumped onto a rock on the side, and hid himself between some bushes. The centaur was right in front of him, though the centaur could not see Harry as he was hidden. And when it was ready, Harry jumped out of the bushes and shouted:

"_Stupefy!_"

The centaur laid on the ground in a stunned state. A bolt of green lighting rose into the air and Harry heard more cries. Harry ran in the direction of the cries and he was surprised at what he saw next. On the ground covered in blood were five lifeless centaurs. Harry couldn't see how they had died; nothing could have killed them. But Harry felt sorry for them; he wanted to protect himself; he didn't want to kill them! And he didn't! Harry didn't do this!

But Harry's mind was left to be as he soon heard sobbing coming near the bark of an old tree. Harry looked down at the source of the sobbing. A small figure, a boy with black hair, and an oversized robe covered the boy. His knees were up to his chin and he was sobbing into them. Harry walked cautiously towards the small boy, not sure what to say. "Hello" would be a good place to start...

"Erm...hey, there," Harry said somewhat lamely but in the calmest voice possible. Two green tear filled eyes looked up at him. The boy started to shiver.

"Hey," Harry said calmly as he kneed down to the boy's eye-level. "I'm not going to hurt you," The boy made a face. "I promise,"

"H-how I know you're not...lying?" The frightened boy asked in the timidest of voices. "Those horsies wanted me hurt! You might as well!" The boy tried to crawl away but, because of the oversized robe which was covering his body, he fell to the ground. He scraped his knee and blood started to pour out.

"Are you OK?" Harry asked in a concerned voice as he looked at the poor boy. Harry saw tears starting to stream down his little cheeks.

"I want a mommy," The boy said as he tried to stop his tears from falling. "I want a mommy,"

Harry didn't know how to react to this. He could have responded many ways but didn't react in any way as his conclusion could be wrong and would have been rude of him. Harry merely did what his heart told him to do...

Harry got down on his knees and placed a hand on the boy's trembling shoulder. "Come with me and I can help," The boy looked up at him with sad eyes. "I won't hurt you, I promise." But the boy didn't believe him.

"Leave me alone," He tried to get back up but he fell again and scraped his left knee in the process. More tears escaped his eyes.

"I'm not goanna leave you until you come with me," Harry said in a calm, firm voice. His hand was on the boy's shoulder, once more. "I won't hurt you,"

"Promise?" The boy looked up with his green eyes and were greeted with Harry's green eyes.

"I promise," Harry said.

"How do me know you're not lying?" The boy asked, quietly. Harry sighed.

"You'll just have to trust me," Harry said simply. The boy looked like he was working something out in his head and then, after a while, he stood on his knobbly knees and said:

"I'll try,"

Harry was soon aware that Bane and the other centaurs were nowhere in sight; they could return in any moment. And Harry wouldn't like to be here when they returned. But Harry didn't know why the centaurs wanted to harm this little boy in the first place. Although, Harry didn't know the whole story, exactly. But he wanted to know...

And then he thought of his friends and their reactions. He smiled a little, just imagining what their faces would look like...

He laughed for the first time in a very long time.

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**A/N:**

**How was it?**

**It didn't turn out exactly how I planned but, I think it turned out pretty well. I hope the characters were 'in-character'. By the way, this story takes place after "Half-Blood Prince".**

**Feedback is most appreciated! :)**

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EDITED 25/10/2010: Made grammar and spelling corrections. :)  
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	2. Please Save Me

**A/N:**

**Sorry for the awfully long wait! I've been so busy with college work and I've just been a bit lazy as well.**

**Thank you for all of the awesome reviews! :)**

**OK, Let me clear one thing up:**

**This is not a slash story! The Harry/Tom relationship is Father/Son relationship; nothing more.**

**Sorry for bad spelling and grammar!**

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Disclaimer: If I said I owned Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling would probably sue against me. So, I cannot say that I do own Harry Potter or any relating characters; J. K. Rowling owns them.

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**The Power Of Love  
**Written by mpkio2

**Chapter 2  
Please Save Me**

"Why you laughing?" The little boy with emerald green eyes asked the older boy who was walking by his side, curiosity written on the boy's face.

The older boy turned to the younger and just smiled. "Oh, nothing," he replied and he continued walking with the younger boy by his side.

It was very quiet, which was odd considering the fact that many creatures in the Forbidden Forest were eternal and should be up and about doing their usual activities. But the older boy didn't concentrate on this question; and how could he? Many questions were buzzing away in his head all at once, so he found it hard to concentrate on one.

Where was Bane and the other centaurs? Where had that green light come from? What had killed those centaurs that now lay dead on the forest ground? Why did Bane and the heard of centaurs want to kill this little boy? And most importantly of all, who was this little boy and how did he turn up in the Forbidden Forest?

Although Harry consided it to be a good question to ask (The last question), he decided that such information should be learnt in a more safer and less dangerous environment, no matter how great his curiosity got to him. But Harry did wonder as he walked through the more-than-usual-eerie Forbidden Forest with the young boy walking by his side, how was he going to explain this to his friends and to Professor McGonagall once he reached the Castle grounds?

But before Harry could think of what he would say to the now Head Mistress of Hogwarts and what he will say to his friends, Harry would have to think of some other time, for Harry still had the mission of getting himself and the little boy into the school of witchcraft and wizardry, not being detected by Mr. Filch, the caretaker and his cat and loyal helper, Mrs. Norris. Of course, Harry would use the invisibility cloak that was safely in his jeans pocket.

But when Harry put his hand into his pocket, thinking he would feel the smooth and silky material that was his father's invisibility cloak, he was shocked and startled to discover that he felt nothing at all. His feet stopped at a halt, panic over taking his body; his heart raced, sweat dripped down his forehead. His hands checked all other his body, checking in every pocket and cranny. But no matter how much Harry searched, he found no silky material at all.

The little boy soon discovered that the weird older boy with crooked glasses had stopped walking. The little boy turned to look back up at the older boy and, once seeing the shock and panic on the boy's face, he asked in a tentative and worried voice:

"Mister..." The little boy squeaked. "Y-you OK, mister?"

What now, Harry thought. How in the name of Merlin was he going to get passed Filch at this time at night?...and with the little boy by his side! If Filch caught him, how was Harry going to explain the little boy in his arms? Filch would probably inform McGonagall and, if she by any chance doesn't believe Harry's story (Which he could hardly believe himself,), he was pretty sure she would inform the Ministry Of Magic. Harry could already see the front page of the Daily Prophet: "CHOSEN BOY KIDNAPPS BOY".

"Mister..." The little boy was by Harry's side now, but Harry had failed to see this for he was staring ahead at nothing in a state of utter shock. The little boy tried tugging on Harry's pant leg to get his attention. "Mister, what wrong?"

Tugging on Harry's leg must have worked for Harry shook his head at sensing a tugging and looked down by his side to see the boy looking up at him with worried green eyes. Harry had almost forgotten he was there.

"What?" Harry asked, shaking his head, coming out of his miner shock. "What did you say?"

"I say 'You OK?'" The kid repeated in his high little voice. "You stop walking and you say nothing at all,"

A rustling noise to the left got the boy's attention. The noise sounded like an animal but it didn't sound like any animal the boy had ever heard in his life. It sounded...magical...but dangerous at the same time. The boy was sure he heard the sound of paws crunching on twigs. A frightened expression spread across the boy's face. His eyes grew large and his mouth started to tremble slightly.

"P-p-please, mister," the boy said in a stuttering voice, eyes focused on Harry's, looking up with worry and plead. "I-I want t-to leave t-t-this scary p-p-place. Please, p-p-please, let leave, p-p-please,"

The boy was so frightened, Harry could see his whole body was trembling with fear. Harry's heart melted at the sight. Harry sighed deeply and, in doing so, got down to the boy's eye level and said in a calm and reassuring voice:

"Listen," Harry put a hand on the boy's shoulder to ease his trembling. "We're going to get out of this place as soon as possible, OK?"

The boy gave a shaky nod as a reply. He covered his eyes, slowly, and started to whimper slightly.

"Me afraid," he sobbed, his body still shaking. "Me afraid and want to go!"

Not wanting the boy to cry any louder (And, in doing so attracting any predators to their location) and seeing how frightened and terrified the boy was, Harry carefully lifted the boy into his comforting arms and started to bounce the boy in his arms to soothe his crying.

"Don't cry," Harry whispered in the boy's ear. "We're going to get out of here and then we're going to get you back home," This seemed to calm the boy down, but he stiffened when Harry mentioned the word "home". Curious at the reason to this, Harry made a mental note to ask the question later. But now, Harry had to figure out how he and the boy were going to return to the school undetected. Where his invisibility cloak was, Harry didn't have a clue.

Harry came to the conclusion that he must have dropped the invisibility cloak when he was defending himself against the centaurs (Which he still couldn't believe he had done!). But thinking about the centaurs did not help Harry at all, for the next question that popped up in his head was: "Where is Bane and the other centaurs?" What if they would return? What would happen then? Harry had an answer but he didn't like to think he was right.

Harry's cloak could be anywhere by now! He couldn't risk going back and facing the centaurs again. Harry was stuck; he had no idea how he would retrieve his cloak. He checked his pockets again, but all he found was several BertsyBox Every Flavour Beans, an extendable ear, the Marauders' Map, and his wand.

And the answer to Harry's question was in his right hand; his wand. Of course! How could Harry be so stupid! How he would retrieve his cloak was in his hand. All he had to do was to say "Accio Invisibility Cloak" and he would have it in his hand's again.

And so, trying not to make too much noise, Harry held onto his wand in his right hand and, hoping the spell would work, he summoned:

"_Accio Invisability Cloack!_"

Nothing happened after awhile and Harry almost believed that spell had failed. But after a few more moments, Harry heard a "Swishing" sound and, in a beat, the invisibility cloak landed by his feet. Relief and happiness washed over Harry straight away once he saw the silky invisibility cloak by his feet.

Before Harry could pick it up, however, he noticed that he no longer heard the boy in his arms crying or whimpering or moving at all. Harry looked down and saw that the boy had fell asleep in Harry's arms. It was amazing to see that a small peaceful smile was on his face. He was snoring quietly, his thumb in his mouth, sucking away, drool coming out of his mouth. Harry would have thought how cute he looked as he slept, but now was not the time; he had to return to the castle before the centaurs any other animal for that matter, made Harry and the boy, their meal.

But before Harry moved to pick up his father's invisability cloak, an arrow hit a tree just inches away from Harry's head. This startled Harry and, by instinct, Harry took hold of his wand in his right hand (He held the boy in his left arm, alone) and turned round to see what had tried to shoot at him.

"Potter!" Came a familiar thundering voice that echoed a mere feet away. Harry could just about see an outline of a centaur (Harry's heart plummeted). "Please be so kind as to place the child onto the forest floor!" the thundering voice continued to shout. There was only one centaur that voice belonged to...

Harry muttered "_Lumous_" and the end of his wand tip lit with a bright light. Harry could now see clearly who the centaur was; it was Bane. A bow and arrow was in his hands, ready to shoot another; it was aimed at Harry's head. He was only but six feet away. He didn't look happy at all.

"I...I think I can take it from here, thank you, Bane," Harry said in a uncertain voice. He didn't know what he was doing (Some people would have called him mad, like Ron for an example), but he knew if he didn't take the boy back up to the school, Bane would surely kill him and Harry wasn't about to let that happen.

"Do not speak to me with such words, Potter!" Bane shouted back. "You shall put the child down, or your fate will be in my hands!" To show what he meant, Bane pulled tighter on his bow and arrow.

Heart-thumping and mind racing (Many voices telling him to obey Bane's order), Harry stood with the boy in his arm, his wand aiming at Bane's chest, not doing anything. He ignored the voices in his head and listened to his heart...

"No," Harry shouted back. "I'm leaving with this child," Thinking it would be better to persuade Bane to let him go, Harry tried to calm himself down and reason with the centaur. "Look, I'll take him, alright? I'll be responsible for him, OK?"

Bane laughed heavily after hearing this. "You think you can speak words of persuasion to me, Potter?" Harry didn't reply at all. "You think you can enter the forest, touch centaur land, and leave with anything of your choosing? You think you have such rights? You humans think you belong everything?"

It was a rhetorical question and Harry knew it, but he answered out of politeness. "No,"

This was a wrong move on Harry's part for Bane had screamed out in anger, his horse legs kicking up in furry, an arrow leaving his bow and flying towards Harry.

"_Bombarder!_" Harry shouted, and the arrow burst into sawdust that fell to the ground.

"Don't play the scholar, human!" Bane bellowed. "I know what is to come and if you do not obey my order, it will be the end of us all,"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confusion now entering his brain. The end of us all? Surely not one little boy could cause so much damage.

"I have already spoken enough!" Bane yelled back, as he took hold of another arrow and placed it with his bow."You already know what you shall not!" He aimed the arrow at Harry again. "Now, release the child at once!"

Harry's brain was screaming at him to do as he was told, but he wasn't going to give up that easily. He could at least try again...

"Please," Harry said, lowering his wand to his side (He didn't think it was a smart move, but maybe if he showed he wasn't a threat to Bane, the centaur would do the same). "Let me take him to the school; Professor McGonagall can help him return to where he came from. I'll be responsible; if anything bad happens, blame it on me. Just...please, Bane. Just give me this one chance, and I will never bother you again,"

Bane seemed to be thinking over what Harry had just said for the bow and arrow in his hands were still aiming at Harry. But after awhile, his arms lowered.

"That child is a threat to the world, Potter," Bane said in a serious voice. "He is very dangerous...and, yet, you will take responsibility over him?"

Harry looked down at the peaceful boy in his left arm and the answer was simple.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"You will look over him?"

"Yes,"

Bane seemed to have been walking closer to Harry when he was asking the questions; Bane's voice was so much louder than before. Harry looked up and saw that Bane was only a few inches away. Bane sighed and then looked at Harry and said:

"Fine, so be it, Potter! You shall be the boy's career,"

It took a while to register what Bane had said, but after a few moments, Harry's eyes widened and he exclaimed: "What?"

"Do you not have ears to listen with, Potter? I said you will be the boy's career. You will look after the boy and make sure he does nothing evil. Understand?"

"But I can't-"

"Or, you could always leave the child with me..."

Knowing exactly what Bane was suggesting, Harry quickly shook his head.

"Well then, be gone with you. And don't return with that child to this forest again. If you do, he shall be in the hands of the centaurs,"

Harry nodded his head. "I understand," He bowed his head for extra measure.

"Be gone!" Bane bellowed. "Before my mind is changed,"

And with that being said, Harry quickly got down to the ground, picked up the invisibility cloak, and threw it over himself, instantly shading himself and the boy away from the world. Harry then turned and walked back in the direction to the castle, trying not to make any noise at all, fearing he would wake up the sleeping boy in his arms or the sleeping predators.

Harry feared that Bane would, somehow, follw Harry and take tey boy that slept peacfully in his left arm. But of course, Harry knew that would not happen, for Harry was under the invisability cloak and Bane did not have the eyes to spot him with. And besides, centaurs wouldn't dare leave their land from within the Forbidden Forest (Centaurs respected the forest; if predators did not step on their land, they in turn will not step on the predator's land), so Harry was ensured that Bane would keep his word and would not take the boy away. Harry smiled at this...

After a few minutes of walking, Harry finally saw light up ahead, between the cracks of the dark trees that loomed over head. Harry was close to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, close back to the school. It started to become lighter and lighter as Harry continued to walk between the small amout of trees, the proimetre of the forest becoming ever so closer.

Harry, finally, exited the Forbidden forest and entered the clearing just outside, the moon shining brightly in the night sky, giving it's brightest quality outside of the forest. Harry continued to walk up the path that lead to the Castle with the sleeping boy in his arms. A boy which was now his responsibility; for how long, Harry didn't know.

Harry only hoped that the boy was as harmless as can be...

Boy was he wrong...

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**A/N:**

**Well, there it is people! The end of Chapter 2!**

**I've worked just over an hour and a half on this and I think it came out pretty well; nothing I expected, but good all the same. I hope the characters are in-character so far!**

**By the way, I hope I got all the details correct. If I'm wrong about anything, please let me know.**

**I apologize yet again for the overly long wait!**

**Thank you to everyone who has left this story on their favs and story alert list! :)**

**Do you guys like Tom so far? I think his adorable! :)**

**Anyway, before you go and do all of your usually stuff, could you please hit that green button below and let me know what you thought of this chapter? Thanks! :**

**As long as you review, the update won't be long!**

**See ya next update! :)**

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**EDITED 24/10/2010: Made fixes to spelling and grammer and structure of chapter. :)**


	3. I've Saved You

**A/N:**

**I am sorry I have not updated this story in a long while! I've been, mostly, concentrating on other fanfic stories from other fandom's, and for that, I am greatly story that this story has been neglected and hasn't been getting the attention it deserves….just like little Tommy in this fanfic *Hugs Tommy* Sorry!**

**But seeing how "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" will be released in a month or so, and advertisement of the movie is in full swing, I am hyped and, because of this, I feel encouraged to write as much as I can for this story. Yay for encouragement and hyperness! :)**

**Thank you so much to all of the awesome reviews left for Chapter 2! It means a lot that you guys (and girls) like it so much! **

**There was an inconsistency in Chapter 2 where Bane was able to see Harry when Harry had his invisibility cloak on. I have gone back and fixed the problem. Some changes in paragraphing. Thanks to **Teufel1987 **for pointing out the problem! :)**

**Also, I have gone back and made spelling and grammar fixes to the previous two chapters.**

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**Disclaimer: If I said I owned Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling would probably sue against me. So, I cannot say that I do own Harry Potter or any relating characters; J. K. Rowling owns them.

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**The Power Of Love  
**Written by mpkio2

**Chapter 3  
****I've Saved You**

The moon shone brightly in the night sky, the only source of light in the dark castle grounds Harry walked upon. It was a slightly cold night, and even with his father's invisibility cloak giving some warmth, Harry wished he had brought a sweatshirt or a jumper. Why did he sneak out the castle without thinking? But the answer to that question came like a lightning bolt; Harry was too sad to even think about doing anything; after all, just under an hour ago he didn't care what would happen to him. It's amazing how grief could cloud the mind, covering logic and rationality all together.

Harry still missed Dumbledore. He missed the way his old mentor used to say random things, the way his old voice filled with years of wisdom used to bring just the tiniest of smile to Harry's lips, feeling hopeful when he even heard him speak, the slightest of smile playing on his old, aged face. It had been over two weeks since Dumbledore's death and Harry still wasn't over it, wasn't over the pain and guilt he felt in his heart. If only he had done something that fateful night! If only Harry had hexed Snape before the man he loathed so much had pointed his wand at Dumbledore and summoned one of the Unforgivable curses, the killing curse, square dead on his mentor's heart, making him fall from the Astronomy tower and to the grounds of Hogwarts. If only things went differently. If only...

But Harry couldn't hope and wish "if only"; he had to move on and think about how he could go on with his life, head on his fears and the ultimate mission of killing Voldemort once and for all with his two friends, Ron and Hermione. Harry has to do it, has to face the unavoidable fate, whether he likes it or not; a prophecy has to be fulfilled and Harry must make sure that he comes out on top. Harry has to do it...even without Dumbledore.

Harry's thought process were momentarily interrupted as the boy in his arms started to stir and started to moan slight. Fearing he would wake up, Harry started to rock the boy in a calming, soothing manner, all the while, whispering "Shh," into his ear. This, somewhat did the trick; he had stopped stirring and moaning. But now the boy did something new all together; he started to murmur incoherent sentences:

"Take...now...go..." The boy murmured, Harry hearing the slight panic and fear in his voice.

Harry could only react by comforting the boy. "Shh, it's OK," Harry whispered in a reassuring voice. "We'll be in the castle in no time,"

'In no time' was correct, but getting into the castle without the boy making a sound so as not to detect their presence to Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris was not going to be easy. Harry had to make sure that the boy would stay silent. How? The answer was in Harry's jeans pocket; his wand. A dimple Silencing charm should do the trick. Harry put the boy into his left arm, taking all of the boy's weight, and with his right, he took out his wand and summoned the spell.

The boy was silent, and Harry was happy with that; it would keep him quiet until they passed Filch and were safely...where? Harry hadn't figured where he would go after he entered the castle. First thing he thought of was to go to the Gryffindor boy's dormitory and he could talk to the boy there, but that seemed inappropriate as he could wake his fellow Gryffindor housemates. He couldn't go see Hermione for she was already fast asleep in the girls dormitory and boys were strictly forbidden to set foot in the girls dormitory; that was out of the question.

And so Harry, had no alternative; he had to go to Professor McGonagall, the headmistress. He had intentionally wanted to see Professor McGonagall first (He had even told Bane he would see her first,), but the headmistress was not a preferable choice for him. Why? Maybe because Headmistress McGonagall was very stern and didn't like being awake in the middle of the night (Who does?) Plus, Harry didn't want to inform her that he had a toddler with him in the middle of the night; it would look very suspicious and she might even get the wrong idea.

Harry shook his head, knowing that his imagination was running wild. Although Harry didn't like it, he had to go and see Professor McGonagall, no matter what time of the night it was or what Harry had done; if he didn't inform her of the problem, what would he do? Besides, the boy was injured and needed medical attention and even though Harry had some experience when involving healing injuries, he would be reassured that the boy was in the hands of a professional healer like Madam Promfrey.

The boy started to squirm a little and Harry had a job keeping him under control; what was wrong? Maybe it was a lot worse than Harry initially thought? And, even though Harry couldn't hear him, he was positive that the boy was murmuring and was in pain for his face portrayed one in pain and suffering.

With this in his head, Harry, now more than ever, had to get into the castle, undetected by Filch. But Harry started to wonder; would it be so bad if he was caught by Filch? I mean, Professor McGonagall would ask why Harry was in the Forbidden Forest at such a late time, anyway? He would, undoubtfully, serve a severe punishment from Professor McGonagall (Detention for a month, perhaps), but as long as the boy was safe. So, did it matter if he was caught?

Harry was now by the beginning of the bridge that lead over to the clock tower courtyard and into the clock tower. He had already past Hagrid's hut. He stood under the opening to the bridge and started to walk fastly, the boy tight against his body with both hands, not wanting him to drop, the invisibility cloak over them still, the moon shining ever on. Harry made it to the other side in record time. He walked to the clock tower castle wall, knowing the secret passageway that would lead him back to the moving staircase. He quickly took out his wand, pointed at each brick in the wall in a sequence (Like Hagrid had done when Harry first visited Diagon Alley) and the wall opened up.

Harry entered through and walked through the dark passageway.

"_Lumous!_" The tip of Harry's wand lit up, lighting the rest of the small passageway, making it easier to walk in. The boy started to shake a little and Harry made "Shh"ing sounds to calm him. To be honest, Harry felt a little helpless, for here in his arms was a child who was in pain and all Harry could do was "shss" him.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Harry finally made it to the other end of the passageway. It was a door and Harry opened it with his free hand. He entered the moving staircase on the ground floor. The door Harry had just exited from had a "Keep out!" sign on it. No-one ever entered the door.

Harry quickly made his way up the moving staircase to the first floor, keeping an eye out for any staircase that tried to trick him and make him fall to his doom. But Harry was so concentrated on not falling that he totally forgot about the boy in his arms who, for some reason, started to cry, out loud, for the whole school to hear!

Harry jumped once he heard the boy wailing in his arms, almost forgetting that he had casted a Silencing charm to keep the child quiet. Obviously the charm had worn off and the boy's wails of fear and pain were heard throughout. Harry didn't see why the charm would have worn off; usually the charm can last up to an hour, depending how much power you put into the spell. Perhaps charms have a different affect on children under a certain age. But Harry didn't ponder over the affects charms had on children, for he had to try and silence the boy before he woke up the entire school.

"Please," Harry tried as he put the boy to his chest. "Please stop crying. Your goanna wake up the entire school if you don't," But the boy ignored Harry's pleads. Harry decided that he would get up to the floor in which the Headmistress's office resided on while calming the boy down. Harry tried another Silencing charm but it was no good.

"Please," Harry continued. "If you don't be quiet..."

But Harry had stopped talking and had come to a complete halt, for at the top of a staircase on the second floor, stood a disgruntled Mr. Filch, Mrs. Norris by his ankles.

"_...Mr. Filch will find us,"_ was the ending to Harry's unfinished sentence.

"Well, well, well," Mr. Filch sneered, the lantern in his hand. "What do we have here? Potter out of bed after mid-night?"

But, wait! How could Filch see him? He had the invisibility cloak-

Harry touched his head, not feeling the smooth silky touch of his father's invisibility cloak, his heart plummeting. It must have come off when Harry rushed up the staircase a few moments ago.

"And what's this?" Mr. Filch looked at the boy in Harry's arms who was now trying to control his sobbing, probably due to the fear he felt towards Filch; the boy didn't look at him. He pressed himself against Harry's chest. "Potter has kidnapped a baby? Wait to the Headmistress hears this,"

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"And so you see, Professor, I found Potter here out of bed, wondering the castle no doubt, and with a baby in his arms!" Filch looked as though he had just won the jackpot. And maybe he had.

"I see, Mr. Filch," Headmistress McGonagall said in her stern, brisk voice.

It was twelve thirty, by the watches that hang hung around Dumbledore's- McGonagall's office. After being spot out of bed, Mr. Filch dragged Harry and the sobbing boy to McGonagall's office, alerting McGonagall that he had found "Potter out of bed and wondering the castle," A tired looking McGonagall was sitting in Dumbledore's…sitting behind her office, her hair tied up in a neatly formed bun, wearing her green patterned night-gown. One of her arms was leaning on the arm of the chair, the other was rubbing her forehead. Filch stood close by in front of McGonagall, a smirk placed on his face while looking at Harry. Harry sat in the chair in front of McGonagall with the boy in his arms. The boy was fast asleep by now, sobbing himself from fear and pain into an uneasy slumber. Harry was grateful that he did not stir as much. The office was bright, the lights were on.

McGonagall stared at Harry. For a minute, Harry thought she was going to shout at him, but after a second she asked in a calmer voice

"Now, Potter," she leaned forward a bit. "Would you please explain to me why you were out of bed at such hours?"

"Er…well….you see…" To be honest, Harry didn't know why he was out at such a time. If he remembered correctly, he was out because he didn't care what had happened to him; he was in grief and pain. He wanted to be alone, away from everyone else. But what should he say to McGonagall?

"I….wanted to be alone," Harry started in a small voice, his head hanging a bit; did he feel ashamed? Embarrassed, perhaps? "I know I wasn't supposed to be out at such a time but I just wanted to get away from everyone. It was stupid of me to enter the Forbidden Forest, I know that," Harry took a chance and looked up at McGonagall. "But it was the only place I felt at…peace,"

"Rubbish!" Filch exclaimed, obviously not believing Harry's side of the story. "He was out of bed just because he felt like he could get away with it!"

"Mr. Filch, please," McGonagall raised her hand to silence him; he grumbled something incoherent under his breath. Harry smiled glad to know that McGonagall was on his side, or at least giving him a chance. The boy started to stir in Harry's arms and McGonagall noticed the movement. Her eyes fixed upon the boy, concern and worry sparkling in them. "Potter, how did you come into the possession of the boy you have in your arms?"

It was an unavoidable question, seeing how nobody could miss the child in Harry's arms. Harry sighed deeply, knowing that what he was about to say would sound very….far-fetched. Although saying that, Harry's life was filled with far-fetched consistencies. He bounced the boy a little in his arms, trying to calm his stirring, and spoke:

"You're probably not going to believe me," Harry sighed and stopped talking.

"Please, continue, Potter," McGonagall urged him.

Taking one last deep breathe, Harry finally answered McGonagall's question:

"Well, I was in the Forbidden Forest and I was about to turn back and return to the castle…"

"A very wise choice, indeed," McGonagall commented, interrupting Harry's story. "I apologize for the interruption. Continue, Potter…" Harry nodded his head, accepting McGonagall's apology.

"As I was saying, I was about to return to the castle, when I heard this cry, a child's cry, deep within the Forbidden Forest. At hearing this, I ran through the Forest to the source of the noise," Harry noticed that McGonagall was shaking her head, disapproving, probably, at Harry's actions. Filch, who Harry saw just out of the corner of his eye, was making a face that said: "What-is-this-rubbish!" "What I found was a heard of centaurs, circling a boy, this boy," Harry inclined his head to the boy in his arms. "The centaurs were all aiming their arrows at him, as if he had done something wrong; I think they were going to kill him,"

"Kill him?" came McGonagall's burst of outcry. "The centaurs would not do such a thing, not alone to a young boy of his age!" She was on her feet now, a hand to the side of her face. "Are you sure about this, Potter? Are you certain?"

Harry nodded his head. "Yes," he answered. "I know this because Bane told me so,"

"Bane?" McGonagall asked. "The same Bane that helped you all those years ago in the Forbidden Forest?"

Harry nodded his head, yet again.

"He was leading the heard of centaurs, by what I could tell. He said that….that…." And now Harry was stuck. Should he tell McGonagall the message Bane told him about the peaceful boy in his arms? _"That child is a threat to the world, Potter," _Harry remembered the centaur telling him in a warning voice. So far, Harry had not told McGonagall about the green lightning in the sky he saw, not thinking that piece of information was important. But now, Harry realized that maybe it was important. Didn't Harry see green lightning just before he returned to the centaurs to discover that some were dead?

"He said what, Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"He said….." What to say? The truth or lie? "…. the child had trespassed on their land and had to pay the penalty," It was an utter lie, but a reasonable lie at that and Harry was sure McGonagall wouldn't question his statement; she didn't, but she was shocked.

"Are you telling me that the centaurs were going to kill the boy? The boy in your arms?"

Harry nodded a "yes,"

"But how did you escape, Potter?" McGonagall asked, looking over Harry's physical state. "It appears that you have left without a single scratch on your body!"

"I…fought my way out, professor," Harry confessed. It was best to tell the truth for that is what it is. "I know I shouldn't have fought, but I had to. They were going to harm a defenseless child and I couldn't stand and let that happen,"

"I see," McGonagall fell into Dumble- her seat, looking exhausted by all the information she had to take in, a hand by her head, her eyes tired looking. "So you fought against the centaurs, did you, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry looked down. "And…." He had to tell her; he had to tell her what he had seen when he returned to the boy after fighting his way against a centaur. "…some were lying on the forest ground, dead,"

Harry could hear McGonagall gasp, hear Filch screech: "Exspell him, professor! He killed the centaurs!"

"I did no such thing!" Harry burst out, standing with the child still in his arms. "I returned to the boy and found some of the centaurs dead. I didn't do anything!" Harry looked to a stunned McGonagall. "Professor, you have to believe me!"

"Exspell him, professor!" Mr. Filch screeched, again. "He was the only one in the forest with a wand! He used magic to kill the centaurs! You must-"

"That is quite enough!" Mr. Filch was silent at once. Harry slowly sat in the seat in front of Professor McGonagall. The boy started to stir yet again, murmuring something that made no sense.

"Potter," McGonagall addressed Harry in a stern and brisk voice. Harry looked her with pleading eyes. "This is a serious incident and, although I do not know what exactly happened down in the Forbidden Forest tonight, you, I am afraid to say, am a prime suspect. If what you tell me is true, that some of the centaurs are, indeed, dead, I will need to investigate into the problem, immediately. I'm afraid the Ministry of Magic may be involved,"

Great. Perfect. This was exactly what Harry needed; more headline news about himself, more lies in the paper, more people talking about him; when will it ever end?

"Before I have my say in this, I think the boy needs some medical attention," McGonagall said looking over the boy in Harry's arms. "I don't know how physically damaged he is, but it would be a good idea for Madame Promfrey to get a good look over him,"

Harry wanted to hug McGonagall but chose against it, seeing it a bit inappropriate; he had almost forgotten that the boy was in a delirious and unhealthy state. It was the reason he, the boy, was stirring in Harry's arms.

"Mr. Filch," McGonagall looked at the silenced man. "Could you please go and fetch Poppy for me? Tell her that it is urgent," Grudgingly, Filch left the room, off to fetch for Made Promfrey, angrily saying under his breath: "I hope that Potter boy gets expelled. Oh, that will be the day…"

Once Filch was out of the room, McGonagall leaned slightly forward in her seat and looked seriously at Harry. This was it; this was McGonagall's final word. She was going to give Harry his sentence, give him a good bashing, lecture him on wondering in the Forbidden Forest at night. And, in the end, she would punish him.

"Potter," McGonagall started, sternly. "I must say it was very irresponsible of you to be out at such a time and to wonder into such a dangerous environment which is, not only dangerous and life threatening, but also off grounds to students,"

Harry hung his head, knowing she was right.

"Your safety as a student is of importance to the staff of the school. Also, wondering out of the castle in the middle of the night, out of bed, was not a very appropriate thing to do, I must say, Potter,"

Again, she was right.

"And fighting against the centaurs?" She sounded incredulous now. "I've heard mad-men say that before, Potter, but I have never thought that I would hear you say it." He it came; the punishment. "However, what you have done, Potter, was very noble and brave of you,"

Harry lifted his head, slowly.

"Professor?" Harry said, one eye-brow raised in confusion, wondering if he heard right.

"You risked your own life to save another, another you have not known. And even though it was, somewhat, irrational and reckless of you, it was very bold. You defiantly are a Gryffindor, through and through," Harry was sure Professor McGonagall, his ex-head of house, was smiling proudly at him.

Harry smiled back. "Thank you, professor,"

"That does not mean a punishment is not in order here," Harry deflated, knowing it to be too good to be true; that he would actually receive no punishment. "Seeing how you broke, possibly, three school rules, I have no alternative but to serve you a whole month of detention with me," Harry saw that one coming. "Also I will be taking thirty points from Gryffindor," Merlin, what will his housemates think?

"I should warn you that I will be looking into the incident that happened with the centaurs. I will inform Hagrid to go and talk to the centaurs' tomorrow morning, seeing how he is on good terms with the heard. If what they tell me corresponds to what you have said, a serious action will take place,"

Harry didn't like a word she had told him; none of it made him feel any better about the situation, whether that was her intention or not, Harry didn't know. He nodded his head, sadly, showing he understood.

At that moment, the door opened and Made Promfrey briskly came waltzing through the door with a disgruntled Mr. Filch behind her. Professor McGonagall informed her about the boy, telling her that he needed to be looked over. Madame Promfrey took the boy from Harry's comforting arms, but this seemed to be the wrong thing to do, for the boy held onto Harry's shirt for dear life, mumbling that he "Don't want to," After a few seconds of tug and war, Madam Promfrey was able to separate the boy from Harry's shirt. The boy was wailing as he left the room with Madame Promfrey. Harry felt lousy that the boy had to leave, but it was for his own good.; he wanted the boy to be in good health after all.

"Filch," McGonagall addressed the darting man. "You can leave now,"

"But I-" Filch didn't get a word in.

"I have spoken to Mr. Potter and he will be punished severely,"

"But I haven't see-"

"Please, Mr. Filch, leave," McGonagall said in a sterner and louder voice. With this said, Filch turned and left. "No-one ever appreciates me in this damn place," he mumbled, Harry hearing every word. Harry wondered if McGonagall had heard him; he assumed that she had but ignored his statement.

"Thanks, professor," Harry finally said.

"For what, Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"For fetching for Madam Promfrey. I almost forget to mention that the boy does have an injury on his left leg and may have more. I also think he is dehydrated, but I'm not completely sure." Harry hoped that McGonagall saw him looking grateful, for that was how he was feeling.

"It is a good thing that we didn't wait any longer," Was all she said.

"What's going to happen to him?"

"Well, first we need to identify him," McGonagall said as she covered her mouth to yawn. It was very late. What time was it, anyway? One o'clock in the morning? "We then need to find out how he ended up in the Forbidden Forest. Again, I will ask Hagrid to have a word with the centaurs; maybe they could shine some light on this situation. When we determine who he is, we will undergo the right procedure to return him home, back to where he came from,"

"Professor," Harry started, a little hesitantly. "Would you allow me to sleep in the hospital wing just for one night? You know, so I look after the boy if he needs anything,"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "I am sure Madam Promfrey can handle the child. I do not think that allowing you to sleep in the hospital wing would be necessary-"

But at that moment, there was a knock at the door. Once McGonagall said "Come in," Madam Promfrey entered, looking hot, bothered and tired.

"I am sorry Minerva," she said taking in gasps of air. "But the boy would not calm down. He says that he wants the man with green eyes who saved him," Both, at once, McGonagall and Madame Promfrey stared at Harry.

Harry looked to McGonagall, waiting for a signal that said he could leave. McGonagall sighed.

"Yes, you can leave, Potter," McGonagall said, almost as if she had read Harry's mind (Of course, she was not a Legilimency) "We shall question the boy in the morning. I think he's gone through far too much in one night. I will inform you what is going on, Potter. Goodnight,"

"Goodnight, professor," Harry slightly bowed his head as he rose up from the chair he was sitting in. He left the office with Madam Promfrey just behind. As Harry stepped out of the rotating gargoyle and started to walk down the corridor, he suddenly felt his ribs start to hurt, badly. The fight with the centaurs and carrying the boy had finally reached his body.

"Dear me," Madame Promfrey cried. "It seems the boy is not the only one who is in pain. You are going to have to be patched up, immediately. To the hospital wing, Potter,"

Harry heard that sentence so many times, but for once in his life, he was happy to hear it, for it meant he would see if the boy was OK…..

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**A/N:**

**I'm sorry that this chapter contained a lot of speaking between McGonagall and Harry and little between Harry and Tom. The speech in this chapter is necessary for the story to continue and develop. Harry and Tom will have a lot more speech in the next chapter. Promise!**

**Oh, and if this story seems a little slow, don't worry! It will pick up pace soon! Just stay with it for now; it will get better! :)**

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I have taken the time to reply to a few reviews which had some important details to clarify and make clear. Review replies are below….**

chinoiserie: **Tom says that he "wants" a mommy. He doesn't ask for his mommy in particular. In other words, he is craving for a mommy.**

Teufel1987: ***Bangs head on table* Thank you so much for pointing out that little inconsistency in the last chapter. I should have realized Bane wouldn't have seen Harry if Harry had his invisablitly cloak on! I have gone back and I have fixed that little error. Hmm…I thought Harry was being stealthy when he was walking through the forest? Oh well…**

Kirby77DP77: **This story takes place after Book 6 "Half-Blood Prince". I have now made this clear in the summary. Thank you.**

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OK, I hope to update really soon. Give me some good feedback and I'll make sure I'll update as soon as I can! :)**

**Please review!**

**Next chapter: Harry learns more about the boy he found in the Forbidden Forest…**


	4. Who Are You?

**A/N:**

**Well, thanks and gratitude goes out to everyone who reviewed for the last chapter and for all who have this story on Story Alert; it means a lot to me. Thank you also to all of you who have been reading this story from the start! :)**

**I apologize for the ongoing delayed updates; I've been focusing on other things recently and this story was put to the side, I am sorry to say. But here is the next chapter for all to read...**

**Sorry about incorrect spelling and grammar!**

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**Disclaimer: If I said I owned Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling would probably sue against me. So, I cannot say that I do own Harry Potter or any relating characters; J. K. Rowling owns them.

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**The Power Of Love  
**Written by mpkio2

**Chapter 4  
****Who Are You?**

Through the moon-lit corridors of Hogwarts Castle, Harry was taken swiftly and quickly to the Hospital Wing, accompanied by Madam Pomfery, who nagged all the way, (Unfortunately for Harry), lecturing him on his "foolish behaviour" and telling how he should have come straight to her when he entered the castle. Harry tried his best to ignore her, but he found ignoring her only made his brain concentrate on the pain that was spreading throughout his ribcage. Yes, the night's event had certainly had a toll on his body and, in a way, he was happy to go to the Hospital Wing, (Despite how much he hated it), for it meant he would have a bed to, finally, sleep upon.

So Harry endured Madam Pomfery's nagging and constant lectures all the way to the Hospital Wing (Which seemed much further away than Harry originally thought; It probably wasn't that far away but Harry's tired mind only made it seem so far away...), putting up, even, with the pain.

For it meant he would see the boy again, to be ensured that he was safe and OK. Yes, it was all worth it; Madam Pomfory's constant nagging, the pain that stained in his ribs, his tiredness which caused his feet to drag along the castle corridors. In the end, saving the boy was all worth it, no matter what state Harry was presently in...

When Harry entered the large room filled with many beds (Some occupied by patients), all of which were lined along the walls, a single candle lit in the corner of the room by Madam Pomfery's office, and a single candle lit by one bed, Harry did not expect to see the boy he had saved laying on his front on top of the bed, his body moving up and down from the rhythm of his breathing, still dressed in the other sized black robe, saying something which came out muffled due to the pillow which was covering his head with two small hands; Harry assumed the boy was sleeping, Madam Pomfery all ready seen to his injuries, but that was not the case.

It looked like Madam Pomfery hadn't even attempted to remove his clothes to inspect his body for any major or minor injuries; although, now that Harry thought about it, Madam Pomfery had stated that the boy would "not calm down" when she had entered McGonagall's office.

I guess that's why I'm here, Harry thought to himself as he walked in with Madam Pomfery by his side, muttering something to herself that Harry did not catch, though assumed it was not for him to hear. She placed Harry on a bed next to the sobbing boy, a lit candle glowing between them. She looked down at Harry expectedly, as if waiting for him to do something, her hands on her hips and looking ever so briskly.

Harry returned her expected look with one of his own.

"Well?" she said in a brisk voice, as if asking what he was going to do now.

"Well what?" Harry asked when she did not elaborate.

"Aren't you going to calm the boy down?" Madam Pomfery asked in a slight irritated voice, her eyes gesturing down at the sobbing boy to her right. "That's why I originally fetched for you, Potter."

And she was indeed correct, Harry realized. How he forgotten that, he didn't know (Probably his lack of sleep...), but he didn't dwell on the countless reasons for it.

"Oh, right, yes," Harry said, shaking his head slightly, feeling a wave of sleep rush over him; he had to stay awake. Getting up ever so slowly as if to not tumble down again, harry walked a little closer to the bed opposite his on his left, and crouched down so that his eyelevel was equal to that of the boy's who was still laying on his bed, sobbing into the pillow.

Harry placed a tentative hand on the boy's shoulder, but was surprised when his hand was pushed aside by the boy's aggressive action.

"Go away," Harry was, somehow, able to hear a feeble and angry, small voice come from underneath the pillow. "I want man with green eyes," the voice continued to say in a rather demanding voice. "I don't want you!"

"Well if you don't want "me", then I could always leave..." Harry said in a rather amused voice by the boy's side, chuckling slightly, despite the sleep that was ready to shoot him down in an instant.

The boy's body language changed in an instant on his Harry's voice. His whole body froze, his breathing dropped a fraction in volume and his sobbing was distinguished down to small sniffles. On recognition of Harry's voice, he tentatively raised his head from under the pillow and turned his head to the left.

The boy's eyes opened slowly and Harry was soon looking back at two green eyes filled with tears, just like Harry's own emeralds. A small smile spread across the boy's face at the sight of the man that saved him.

"It you," he said in a rather happy voice. "The man who saved me..."

Harry smiled in return of the gesture. "Yes I did," Harry stated simply. "And I would do it again if I had to,"

The boy didn't say anything to this; he looked as if it was the first time anyone had said something about that to him and thought it was a lie, for an expression of mistrust placed upon his small face, accompanied by a small frown.

"Why you do that?" The boy asked in a distrusting voice, the frown plastered on his face. "You don't know me..."

Harry looked taken aback by this; why would he not trust him? Why did he doubt Harry's actions? True they hardly knew each other to gain or build any trust upon, but the fact that Harry had already saved him, must have been some indication to the boy that Harry wouldn't stop to think and not do it again? Surely he knew that...

By the look on his face, the boy did not...

"Because you were in danger and I wanted to protect you," Harry answered in a simple voice, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder as a sign for comfort and a reinforcement to what Harry was saying; he would protect him. But it seemed as if the boy was not picking up on the vibe at all, for he pulled his body away from Harry's all together.

What is going on?, Harry asked himself. First he wants me to calm him down, and now he pushes me away, as if he didn't want me in the first place? Why is he pushing my comfort away? What am I doing wrong? Why doesn't he trust me enough to give him a simple pat on the shoulder?

All of Harry's questions were not, unfortunately, answered; for no-one was able hear the questions in Harry's head. There was no time to ask anyone either, for Madam Pomfery cleared her throat very loudly in order to get Harry's attention.

"As much as I would like to stand here all night," she said, both hands still on her hips, looking down at Harry with a glint of annoyance in her eyes. "I have a job to do which is to tend to any injuries that have been afflicted upon you. You have calmed the boy down, Potter, and now I can see to his injuries. If you wouldn't mind as to sit on your bed and wait until I have seen to the boy's, it would help me immensly,"

Harry nodded his head, seeing her point as he too would like nothing better to do than to fall asleep in one of the Hospital Wing's uncomfortable beds, sleep cloudy his head.

"Of course, Madam Pomfery," Harry replied, feeling his eyes drop. "Can I just...finish off talking to the boy first before you see to him?"

Madam Pomfery nodded her head. "You have a five minutes and that is all,"

"Thank you," Harry replied with a small smile. He returned his glance to the boy, who looked back with questioning green eyes. Harry looked further within and a second later he felt his scar tingling with pain, hearing an ugly laugh in the back of his mind. _Voldermort_...

A hand went to his scar; the tingling sensation did not stop.

"Are you 'K, mister?" The boy looked at Harry with concern.

"I'm...fine," Harry lied, for he was not "fine" at all. His scar hadn't tingled in awhile, but that wasn't the source for Harry's apprehension. The fact that the tingling sensation felt...different...was what scared Harry. Plus, he didn't want the boy to worry for Harry's well-being; it should be the other way round. "But, the real question is are you OK?"

The boy looked as though he was thinking about what to say, and when he settled on a appropriate answer, he nodded his head. "I'm 'K,"

"Will you be fine sleeping here in the Hospital Wing?" Harry asked. The boy's eyes widened slightly.

"Where you sleeping?" he asked, fear and anxiety entering his voice.

"Right here," Harry pattered on the bed beside the boy's. "If you need anything during the night, just let me know, OK?" And Harry was tired and he hoped for Merlin he wasn't awoken during the night for he wanted to sleep the night away, but if the boy needed anything, harry would do it. He could have told the boy to call for Madam Pomfery, but seeing how Madam Pomfery had called for Harry to calm the boy down, it showed that he didn't trust Madam Pomfery at all, so telling him to call for Madam Pomfery would be pointless.

The boy nodded his head to show he understood.

"Madam Pomfery..." Harry gestured with his head in the direction where she stood, patiently. "...needs to take a look at your body to see if you have any injuries. Can you let her do that?"

The boy looked up at Madam Pomfery with a wary expression on his face and then back at Harry with an answer he (Harry) already knew. The boy shock his head. _No._

"Why not?" Harry asked, kindly.

"I don't wan' people lookin' at me," the toddler stated simply in a voice that sounded beyond the years of his age, putting his head underneath the pillow, once more. "I don't like people look at me..."

In some small way, Harry could understand where the boy was coming from; he too had the misfortune in his life of people, almost daily, staring at him, at his scar, talking behind his back, saying stuff about him and almost always something negative. Always "_There goes Potty Potter,_" or sometimes "_He thinks his so strong. He really thinks he can defeat the dark lord?_", followed by a round of sniggering from the Slytherins and, occasionally, from Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs too.

"OK," Harry said in an understanding voice. "What if you tell us where you are hurting? How does that sound?"

At this being said, Madam Pomfery looked hesitant and wary.

"Mr. Potter," she started in a brisk voice loud voice that sounded as if she was trying to control the situation at hand, and perhaps she was, for Harry had, totally, taken over and he was now seeing to a patient that was rightly hers. Harry, however, didn't care; _At least the boy would co-operate in some way. That's all that matters..._

"I don't think that-" But Harry was not listening to a word. He felt his Slytherin side come out, wanting to take control at the situation at hand and to stop those who got in his way. He put up a hand to Madam Pomfery to hush her quiet. She gasped in shock, but she did stay quiet, in the end.

"Come on now," Harry encouraged in the gentlest voice he could muster, striving all the way to keep his eyes open. "Just tell me..."

The boy looked hesitant at first, but when he looked at Harry and the big smile he had on his face, his body, slightly, relaxed and spoke in a quiet voice:

"It's...Er...my left leg,"

Harry already knew this, but he wanted confirmation from the boy himself of Harry's pre-diagnosis. It seemed Harry was indeed correct, but he still wondered...

"Are you sure you're not hurt anywhere else?" Harry asked. "Your arms? Your front? Your head? Anywhere else?"

The boy looked like he was concentrating, his facial features on scrunched up in intensity. After awhile, his facial muscles relaxed and answered Harry's question with a firm shake of the head.

"OK," Harry nodded his head, though he was not perfectly satisfied with the answer he was supplied. "If that is all, Madam Pomfery is going to heal your wound for you,"

After seeing the boy's hesitant glance at Madam Pomfery, Harry spoke again in a gentle, comforting voice:

"She's just going to heal it, that's all," He placed a soft hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy flinched at the touch (Which Harry thought was weird,) but allowed Harry to keep his hand there. Harry felt the boy trembling underneath his hand; he was afraid. "And...I'm not going to hurt you,"

The boy looked, who had his head ducked down into the pillow, now looked up and found Harry's face. By the expression on his face, it looked as if the boy was analysing Harry's face, as if detecting any lies of mistrust. After about a minute, the boy nodded his head, slowly.

"Okay..." he mumbled more to himself and into the pillow. He then looked back at Harry and asked: "She fix me...right, mister?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yeah," he said, still awake, despite his need for a bed. "She will fix you." Harry quickly questioned why the boy was calling him "Mister?" But then, he too, realized why he was calling the boy..."boy?" And it quickly struck him the most obvious detail was missing between themselves; the most important detail that all relationships was based on was not mentioned, hadn't crossed their minds (Well, it hadn't crossed Harry's...) at all; their names.

"And, you don't have to call me "Mister", you know?" Harry continued. "Just call me 'Harry', 'Harry Potter'."

Was that a smile Harry saw cross the boy's face? If it was, it was the first time Harry had seen him smile.

"OK...Har-Har-" The boy seemed to have trouble with Harry's name; not to disrespect the boy, Harry smiled on the inside. "Har-wy," the boy concluded, and then smiled in triumphant of his success at pronouncing Harry's name.

Harry chuckled, lightly. "Well done. You pronounced my name."

The boy looked away, his cheeks growing red; was he blushing? Harry smiled at the innocent notion.

"What's your name?" Harry asked. "I can't call you 'boy' all the time,"

The boy smiled, lightly. "I Tom," he said, pointing a finger to his chest to show who he was.

Harry nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Tom,"

"Nice meet you...Har-wy," Tom nodded as well, copying Harry's action, speaking in his broken toddler voice.

"Erhum!" A loud noise of a person clearing their voice filled the Hospital Wing. Harry and Tom looked to their rights and saw an impatient looking Madam Pomfery waiting, with her hands on her hips. She reminded harry of his Aunt Petunia. "I don't mean to break up your little welcoming, but I have a job to do,"

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, Madam Pomfery," Harry nodded, apologetically. "I'll just finish off here..." He gestured to Tom on his bed.

"You certainly will!" Madam Pomfery replied in a brisk, annoyed voice.

Harry turned his attention back to the boy. "OK, Madam Pomfery is going to tend to your wounds. After, we shall sleep..."

"But..." Tom spoke up. "I have...er...qustduns,"

"I'm sure you do," Harry replied. "And, I know you must be confused and terrified, finding yourself in a place like this," Tom looked down, avoiding eye contact with Harry; it appeared harry was speaking Tom's emotions out loud. Now that Harry thought about it, Tom's hesitant to trust Harry made sense; after all, Tom was just a little boy in a big place with people he did not know all around him, with creatures and things he should not know about. His resistance to trusting Harry was understandable.

"But at least you know who I am," Harry smiled. "I'm the one who saved you, remember? That must mean something, right?"

It wasn't a rhetorical question; Harry wanted an answer.

"I guess," Tom replied.

"Exactly," Harry said, still at the same eye level. "So if you can sleep this one night, knowing that at least one person you can trust is with you, you are safe," And as a precaution, Harry put his hand back on Tom's shoulder. "OK?"

"'K," Tom replied in a gentle voice.

"Good," Harry said, as he slowly stood up, readying to sit on the bed opposite Tom's, the conversation, finally, coming to an end, restful sleep calling for Harry. "Then I shall see you in the morning, Tom,"

"And you will be...?" Came Tom's voice, a little startled and afraid with the answer he would receive.

"Right next to you for the whole night,"

This relaxed the boy, immensely. "K," he answered in a gentle voice, his eyes on Harry all the time, as if afraid if he shall look away, Harry would disappear.

"Madam Pomfery will tend to your wounds now," Harry said as he sat on the bed opposite Tom's. Tom looked weary at her but Harry gave him an encouraging smile which the boy picked up.

In the end, Tom nodded his head.

"Well, it's about time!" Madam Pomfery burst out, loudly. "Why I let you talked Potter, I don't know. All you've done is delayed me from treating this boy. For the love of Merlin! Potter, don't sit there on that bed! Help me treat this boy!"

Harry had no idea what Madam Pomfery was talking about; he didn't know how to treat people, medically. What help would he be? But then he discovered that he was able to help Madam Pomfery by coaxing Tom to co-operate in what Madam Pomfery wanted done. In the end, Harry was able to persuade Tom to allow Madam Pomfery to look at, not only his left leg, but the rest of his body.

Madam Pomfery's diagnostics were nothing good to go by. Apparently, Tom had a minor fracture in his left leg, with the addition of a few scratches and bruises that covered his body – especially around his stomach and torso. This obviously worried the matron and surfaced her worries to Harry, as if asking him "_How did this happen? Who did this to him?_" Harry explained the nights events to madam Pomfery, from finding young Tom in the Forbidden Forest, to the heard of centaurs wanting to kill him. Harry was surprised he had enough energy to tell her all of which he did.

When Madam Pomfery was able to heal Tom's wounds with a few Healing spells (That including _Episkey_ to heal Tom's left leg and _Tergeo_ to clear up the few scratches over Tom's body,) , put the boy to sleep with a Sleeping Draught potion and made sure he was comfortable enough in bed, his sleeping head resting on a pillow, snoring lightly, she rounded onto Harry and ushered him away from Tom's bed and across the room so as not to wake him. She wanted to talk to Harry, quietly, so it must be important.

"Take your shirt off, Potter," she said in a brisk voice. "I need to heal your wounds,"

Harry was rather perplexed at this being said, but once he felt a sharp pain around his ribs, he understood, perfectly. However, he was still confused at how Madam Pomfery knew it was his ribs that were wounded; surely he hadn't mentioned it to her? He did as he was told and, once Harry's shirt was removed, Madam Pomfery went to work in fixing Harry's ribs.

Nothing was said between the two of them for awhile. The room was almost quiet if it hadn't been for Tom snoring across the room. Soon, however, a voice spoke quietly to Harry...

"Potter, it sounds like you've been through an ordeal, tonight," Harry was surprised to find the voice belonging to Madam Pomfery. It wasn't the fact she was speaking about the matter at hand, but rather, the tone of her voice was...gentle, a tone Harry had never heard her use before. "I must confess that I was angry at you for being so reckless when I discovered about the whole incident in the Forbidden Forest.

Harry lowered his head.

"However, I see now how much strength you must have had to save the child,"

Harry looked up at this being said.

"Excuse me?" he asked, thinking he heard wrong.

"Are you deaf, boy?" Madam Pomfery burst in her usual tone of voice. "I'm telling you that you were strong to save the child,"

Harry took some time to process what Madam Pomfery was telling him. Once it was processed, he spoke in a hushed, surprised voice.

"Are you telling me you believe me?"

"I never said that," Madam Pomfery replied, quickly. "But I am telling you that you are a brave wizard; Foolish, maybe, but brave, non-the-less. Whatever did happen down in the Forbidden Forest tonight, I hate to wonder. How you emerged in the castle with a wounded child, I, again, hate to think about it,"

"It really did happen..." Harry mumbled in a low voice. Once he mumbled this he felt a cool sensation was over his ribcage. Then, suddenly, a warm sensation and then, nothing at all; Harry knew once away that his ribs were healed.

"So you say, Potter," Madam Pomfery replied, as she crossed the Hospital Wing over to Tom's bed and returned to Harry's side with a potion in her hand. "Drink this,"

Harry did and at once he felt all the aches and pains he didn't know he had around his body, start to vanish.

"You're not fully healed yet," Madam Pomfery said as walked back to Tom's bed, moved a few things, walked to her office and returned to Harry with a pair of pyjamas in her hands. "Put these on," She left the room to give Harry some privacy.

Once Harry was dressed, he walked over and got in the bed opposite where Tom slept, snoring. Madam Pomfery returned with a candle in her right hand and walked beside Harry's bed. Harry could tell, by the light of the candle, that Madam Pomfery's face held an expression of worried.

"What's wrong, Madam Pomfery?" Harry asked, still fighting the sleep that was to come. "You look like something is troubling you..."

The matron sighed, deeply. "Well, Potter," she said in a just as worried voice. "It's just...those bruises and scratches that were covered over the child... I worry that..." But then she was quiet.

"You worry about what?" Harry asked.

Madam Pomfery shock her head. "It doesn't matter," She placed a glass of water on Harry's bed-side table next to Harry's glasses. "If you need anything, just call for me. Goodnight,"

Before Harry could say another thing, Madam Pomfery was gone, away and in her own office. Darkness crept over the room, the candles dying out. It was a sign for all patients to sleep.

And Harry wanted to sleep and, finally, as his eyes closed, Harry fell to sleep. But even in sleep, many questions racked in his brain: "Does Tom fully trust me? Does he trust anyone? How did he get here? Is he a muggle or magical? Where are his parents now? What worries Madam Pomfery so much? What's wrong?"

Even in sleep, Harry's answers were left unsolved. But answers, he would get. After all, tomorrow is another day filled with possibilities...

* * *

**A/N:**

**Well, there's Chapter 4 done and dusted. Late and delayed, yes; but done, non-the-less.**

**Not exactly what I was expecting but I liked how it turned out, despite that.**

**This chapter's purpose was to show Tom's mistrust in people and to show Harry is filled with questions about the Tom and starting to question who he is. Also, Harry's scar hurting is another little insight into who Tom really is.**

**I know it's been a little slow so far, but hang in there; it will speed up soon.**

**

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**TheDormantOne: **I can't take credit for the idea of making Tom Riddle into a three year old toddler. I was inspired but numerous Harry Potter fanfics where Tom is a toddler. The credit goes to the other HP fan fiction writers.**

lilyoftheval5: **Well in the United Kingdom, the word "career" is used for an adult who is looking after a child. I think, however, I will change the word "career" to "guardian".**

**

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Well, please give me some good reviews to keep me motivated. **

**What do you think will happen next? And will Harry ever discover who Tom really is?**

**Please review!**

**~mpkio2~**


	5. Nothing Learn't

**A/N:**

**Thank you so much for the reviews/favs and alerts! They mean the world to me! :)**

**I'm sorry these chapter updates have been slow; I've been busy with other stuff, a little lazy and concentrating on other fanfics.**

**Hopefully, seeing how it's summer and I'm already off for my break, I will be able to post more stuff. :)**

**Anyway, this chapter is long so I hope it makes the wait worth it.**

**Sorry about incorrect spelling and grammar!**

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Disclaimer: If I said I owned Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling would probably sue against me. So, I cannot say that I do own Harry Potter or any relating characters; J. K. Rowling owns them.

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**The Power Of Love  
**Written by mpkio2

**Chapter 5  
Nothing Learn't**

When Harry Potter slowly opened his eyes, he was shocked and surprised to not see any familiar blurs and blobs of the Gryffindor boy's dormitory he usually saw in his line of bad vision when he usually awoke. Instead of the blurs of his maroon bed covers and the dark brown supporters to his four-poster bed, he saw an unfamiliar color of white in front of him (He assumed it had to be the bed covers for he could feel the fabric over his body).

Feeling a little perplexed at his whereabouts and a little panicked from not knowing how he arrived at...where ever he may be, he turned to his right, trying to distinguish anything from his bad eyesight. All he could see was another white blur which he again assumed to be another bed, though he could always be wrong; damn his bad eyesight! If only he had his glasses...

Speaking of glasses, where were they, anyway?

Harry's question was answered almost straight away when he barely saw the outline of a bed-side table where a glass of water, a clock and his glasses sat, neatly, ready for him to pick up and use. He did.

Once Harry's glasses where on and sat perched on the bridge of his nose, instantly, the blurs concentrated and took shape of the objects of what they really were, everything becoming sharper and crystal clear. Harry knew once away where he was.

The Hospital Wing was quiet. There were no patients sleeping soundly in the lined of neatly made, white covered beds opposite the bed he sat up in (Except himself, of course). Sun light was pouring in from the windows above, making the room lighter and golden with a warm feel.

What Harry was doing in the Hospital Wing, sitting up in a bed wearing pyjamas that were not his, he had no idea. But when he looked to his right again and looked upon the previous white blurs that turned out to be a sleeping three year old boy, last night's events and all the pain and stress that went with it, entered Harry's brain all at once, making his head spin, momentarily.

He had saved him, that child.

He had saved...what was his name again?

_"What's your name?" Harry asked. "I can't call you 'boy' all the time,"_

_The boy smiled, lightly. "I Tom," he said, pointing a finger to his chest to show who he was._

Tom.

He's name is Tom.

Dark hair covered a small head, untidy, but held an atmosphere of tidiness, Tom was sleeping in the bed beside Harry and going by his facial expression, he was not dreaming contently. His lips were in the form of a small frown, accompanied with his smooth skin that shone lightly in the sun's rays, his chapped lips and, although they were closed, Harry was sure that his emerald green eyes would show nothing but fear and uncertaincy.

Harry didn't blame Tom; I mean, how would you feel if you found yourself in a weird place, not knowing where your parents, friends or loved ones were? Harry didn't even know if he _had_ any parents, let alone loved ones. But, he must have, right? I mean, he wasn't abandoned...right?

Harry frowned a little, realizing he didn't know much about Tom. Although, there was always today, a day where he could learn more about the mysterious toddler and to maybe, somehow, put together last night's events. Yes, there was always today...

Harry was suddenly propelled out of his thoughts by the noise of a door being opened. He looked to his left, down the line of beds, and at the very end, saw the door to Madam Pomfery's office door being opened, Madam Pomfery herself closing the door behind her dressed in her infirmary uniform, a tray of medicine in her hands. She walked down the middle of the line of beds and stopped at Harry's, knowing he was already awake.

"You're awake, are you, Potter?" she asked in her usual brisk voice, taking hold of a few cups and medicines on the tray.

"Y-yes," Harry stammered. "That's not for me, is it?" Harry asked gesturing to the black potion that Madam Pomfery held in her hand.

"No, you silly boy!" she exclaimed, looking at harry with an incredulous expression. "You are fine and well, seeing how your ribcage bones are head and all minor injuries are healed,"

Harry was about to open his mouth and ask she knew he was feeling better, but she could sense what he was going to ask and beat him to it by answering:

"We medical witches' have been trained to know these things, Potter," she said in a serious tone, stirring the black potion in her hands. "It will take me too long to elaborate, so just trust me when I tell you that you're perfectly fine,"

Not wanting to anger Madam Pomfery and not wanting to hear a long winded story so early in the morning, Harry did as Madam Pomfery requested, agreeing that asking to elaborate would not be such a smart move. He merely nodded.

Harry didn't need to be told to trust Madam Pomfery for he already had, ever since she had regrown his bones in his right arm due to Gilderory Lockhart's backfired healing spell in his second year. He could feel all the bones in his body working perfectly, feeling refreshed and refined at the same time; he felt great.

"Then, what's that potion for?" Harry asked.

"For the child, of course," Madam Pomfery replied in a controlled calm voice, Harry hearing the restraint in her voice to shout (She probably didn't, seeing Tom still sleeping in the bed next to Harry's). "He still hasn't fully healed and this potion will ensure that all bruises, cuts and all will heal properly,"

Harry had no idea that such a potion existed; he inwardly congratulated Madam Pomfery on her excellent infirmary skills in healing.

"Although," Madam Pomfery continued as she walked, carefully, around Harry's bed. "It's a very foul potion and can take up a lot on a person's body." She stopped on the left hand side of Tom's bed, placing the glass of black, bubbling potion on Tom's bed-side table.

"Unfortunately, I have other work to attend to and so I cannot administrate the potion to the child. I have no other option but to place that responsibility on to you, Potter,"

"Me?" Harry asked, a little taken back by the task given to him; it was so much responsibility to take care of the life of a child.

"Yes you, Potter," Madam Pomfery replied in her brisk voice, walking towards Harry's bed and then stopping at the end. "I'm sure you are more than capable, seeing how you did save the child, correct?"

"I...err...yes...but-" Wait, did Madam Pomfery just admit that she believed Harry's story? Last night she said she didn't...

"Then it is final," And that seemed, according to madam Pomfery, to end the conversation between them both, settling the agreement between them, more or less not on Harry's part. "You will give the child the potion and, please make sure he drinks all of it, otherwise it may not be effective enough to heal his body. Understood?"

"I...err...well..." Harry didn't even have enough time for his brain to take in what Madam Pomfery had just said to him; he was still completely taken aback by Madam Pomfery's change of heart on his story.

"A simple 'yes' or 'no' will do, Potter,"

"I...yes...but-"

"Good luck then," Madam Pomfery said simply nodding her head as she did so. Then, she turned and walked in the direction of her office down the end of the room.

"Madam Pomfery, wait!" Harry half yelled to the departing healer, knowing that Tom was still asleep in his bed. The matron stopped walking.

"What is it now, Potter?" Madam Pomfery asked in an n irritated voice. "Didn't I tell you I have work to attend to?"

"I know but..." Harry bowed his head, looking down at his bed sheets, feeling the answer to his question will be nothing but bad. "Last night, referring to the cuts and bruises on Tom's body, you said that you were worried. Why?"

Silence was all that was heard.

And then, a deep sigh...

"I have work to attend to," And Madam Pomfery walked all the way down the Hospital Wing, closing her office door behind her, quietly.

Harry did not expect that answer at all...

* * *

After a few minutes feeling unsatisfied by Madam Pomfery's answer, Harry slipped out of bed and pulled the cubicle white curtain around the bed he slept in, allowing him privacy to get changed into the clothes he wore the previous day, which he found all folded and neat on the chair to his left, ready for him to put on; he felt a little dirty wearing the same clothes twice, but he assured himself he could change once he got back to the Gryffindor boy's dormitory.

As he pulled the white curtains back, revealing the Hospital Wing's empty beds and the brilliant sunlight which poured in through the large church like windows, Harry heard a distant noise that sounded an awful like mumbling.

Harry looked to his right and found the source of the noise; Tom was in his bed, his body moving a little, mumbling inconsistent words that made no-sense. His forehead was shinning in the sunlight, sweaty and sticky, harry assumed. Tom was having a nightmare.

Harry was over by Tom's side in an instant, worried and concerned for the child. He was on Tom's left, next to his bed-side table, ready to administrate the potion when need so, standing on his knees so as to be level with Tom in the bed.

"Tom..." Harry slowly nudged the boy, hoping he would awake. "Wake up,"

All that Harry received was murming. "He's..." Tom said in a weak voice, his eyes shut tightly, a small hand holding on to his pillow as if for protection.

"What, Tom?" Harry asked, worried of what Tom's nightmare was about.

"He's...no...goanna...get me..." Tom replied in a terrified voice, turning onto his other side, eyes still tight shut. "No...go away..."

Harry had seen enough; he couldn't stand to watch the child suffer so much, even in his dreams. It was time to wake him...

Harry grabbed hold of both of Tom's shoulders, yanking away the little arms that tried to stop him and through the resistance of Tom's body, his voice shouting: "Leave me alone!" over and over again, he yanked on the boy, forcefully and said in a loud, firm voice:

"Tom, wake up!"

Tom's eyes snapped open and looked up at Harry's form. Harry saw the fear and confusion in his emerald eyes, his mouth open a little. Harry was, also, confused, but at the expression and emotions Tom showed on his face; didn't he know who Harry was?

The answer to that question was answered quickly; no. Or maybe he does but just can't really remember, is the best way to put it, Harry concluded. Tom is in that "just-woken-up" state, where the brain relies back on information into the conscious state and out of the unconscious state; his little brain hadn't remembered the events of last night and he probably expected to wake up in his crib at home, wanting to see his mother's or father's face. Tom didn't expect to wake up in a weird place, not knowing where he is or not knowing any of the people around him. Yes, Harry could see all that being plausible.

"Hey, it's me, Harry," The wizard said in a calm, soothing voice, trying to comfort the boy and help him remember last night's events. "I saved you, remember?"

It looked as if Tom still hadn't remembered a thing, for his face still held the emotions of fear and confusion, but at after a few seconds, a wave of understanding and realization covered his face, a small smile on his lips.

"Ha-rwy?" Tom spoke in his little voice, tentatively. Harry, inwardly, sighed, relieved that he remembered who he was.

"Yeah, it's me, Tom," Harry replied, nodding his head and smiling.

Tom looked away from Harry's face and down at his white bed sheets.

"You stayed," he simply said in a quiet voice, fiddling with his fingers.

"I said I would, didn't I?" Harry asked, laughing a little at Tom's behaviour, (Was he shy? Surprised?) but also a little confused by it as well; why didn't he think harry would stay?

Tom looked up at Harry, his eyes sparkling with a hidden emotion; happiness, Harry settled on. Tom nodded his head with a smile.

"Well then, if I say I'm goanna do something for you, then I'm goanna do it," Harry replied firmly with a nod to his head, smiling broadly.

"You...promise?" Tom asked in his small voice. Another promise...but...why so many promises? Why the untrustworthy expressions cover his face? Why the hesitance to believe anything? Why?

Harry suddenly took his small right hand pinkie and entwined it with Tom's left hand pinkie, entwining them both together, linking them in a special way.

"You see this?" Harry gestured to their linked pinkies; Tom nodded his head. "This shows the ultimate promise, a promise that can never be broken, so you know that it will never be broken,"

Tom's eyes widened at what Harry's was telling him. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "This is a promise that can never be broken and I will keep it, OK?"

Tom, unable to speak, nodded with a small smile.

"Good," Harry said letting go of Tom's pinkie, braking the physical contact, but the linked connection of the promise, still with them and solid. When Harry thought about asking Tom how he felt, asking if he felt healed, he realized that the child did not appear to be, which made him remember...

"Oh, I almost forgot," Harry said picking up the black potion on Tom's bed-side table. "You have to drink this to make you feel completely better,"

Tom took one look at the bubbling black glass of potion in Harry's hand and stuck his nose at it, protesting that he would never drink something that looked "Yucky!".

Harry knew this wasn't going to be easy. Through his one hundredth attempt at persuading, forcing and begging for the child to drink the potion, Harry had an irking feeling that Madam Pomfery had no work to attend to at all.

* * *

After many attempts, Harry had finally succeed in getting the black, bubbling contents of the potion down little Tom's throat (Succeed with many tears, protests and persuading, might I add). Harry had no idea how many attempts it took; he did know, however, that it took him at least ten whole minutes.

Almost immediately after Harry's success (Which caused little Tom's to pout, with his head to the right and up a little to the sky, a gesture to indicate that he was ignoring the wizard altogether; it occurred to Harry that Tom didn't like it when things didn't go his way), the doors to the Hospital Wing burst open with a huge slam causing both Harry and Tom to jump in fright.

As Harry turned to look at the Hospital Wing doors (in the direction where the starling sound erupted,), a huge weight collided into him, almost making him lose his balance from the huge impact.

"Harry, thank Merlin you are OK," the worried voice of his dearest friend, Hermione Granger, spoke in his ear, her bushy hair all wavy, her head leaning on his left shoulder.

"I won't be for much longer if you don't release me Hermione," Harry would have exclaimed if it wasn't for the fact that his lungs were losing air from Hermione's spine crunching hug.

"Yeah," came the voice of his other dearest red-headed friend, Ron Weasly. Ron was standing just behind of Ron, in front of Harry, a box of "Berte Bott's Every Flavour Beans" in his right hand, eating with his left. "Let the man breathe, Hermione; he's had a rough night,"

"You two know about that?" Harry asked as Hermione realized the hug (Muttering a "Sorry"...), allowing Harry to breathe once again.

"Know about it?" Ron asked in an exasperated voice. "Almost the entire school knows about it!"

"What?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing; how did the entire school know what happened last night? "How is that possible?"

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione answered in a concerned voice. "But it sounds like you've been through an ordeal. I'm just happy you're safe,"

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Hermione,"

"However..." This didn't sound good to Harry. He thought it was odd at how Hermione was treating him, seeing how she usually berated either himself or Ron whenever they did something reckless.

"This whole mess could have been completely avoided if you hadn't wondered into the Forbidden Forest in the first place!" Hermione's eyes were blazing with a fierce anger, her hands on her hips, as if she was another scolding a child. "What were you doing down there, Harry? Did it not occur to you how dangerous the Forbidden Forest is and that wondering into it was not a good idea seeing how you were not accompanied by a teacher? Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" She folded her arms.

Harry looked to Ron for help, but he merely shrugged his shoulders and ate a green colored bean (From the look on his face, it was a rare boggy flavored one).

Harry sighed; he had to tell them sometime and now was better than ever. "I felt so...lost, afraid...lonely...I don't know how to explain it but...loosing Dumbledore like that, losing a mentor like him...it's just...I can't, even now, fathom to think that he's gone,"

Both Ron and Hermione where eerily quiet, listening to Harry pour out his emotions, something hardly ever did.

"I found this place in the Forbidden Forest, like cove, almost, where none of the woodland animals stood upon and, as I could tell, it did not belong to anything. I kept going there, just to be quiet, just to be on my own, just to hear my thoughts and...be able to have some peace. I just wanted to be on my own. I'm sorry," Harry ended lamely, bowing his heading and looking to the floor, embarrassed.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed in an upset voice, holding back sobs. "We had no idea you felt this way. But, why didn't you tell us?"

"You know we're always here for you, mate," Ron added, who also appeared to be embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head.

"I know," Harry confessed. "It's just I wanted to be on my own for a while, just to get other the whole thing, you know?" He looked up and saw both Ron and Hermione nodding. "But, next time I will tell you where I'm going if I ever decided to be on my own,"

Hermione smiled, softly. "That would be good to know,"

"Yeah," Ron agreed, smiling, as he chucked a red bean (Red Chilli flavor) into his mouth; he spat out the bean. "So, don't hide it all from us! Tells us what happened! We should have the right to know seeing how we're your friends,"

Harry nodded his head, agreeing. "Fine; I'll tell you..."

And he did. Harry told the whole story; he re-told the story of how he heard a child's scream in the forest, how he dashed to help, to discover the centaurs trying to kill a three year old toddler, to Harry fighting of the centaurs, finding them dead in the forest, comforting poor little Tom, taking him up the castle and telling Professor McGonagall the whole story. It took him ten minutes to tell it all.

To say that Ron and Herminie looked shocked when Harry had finished his story would be an understatement. Hermione shoot out question after question only to answer them herself:

"What? Why would the centaurs want to do such a think? Kill a three year old? Why? I know they have to guard their territory and all, but couldn't they make an exception, seeing how the toddler is not even of age? And how did most of the heard end up dead? That does sound mysterious. Green lightning? Maybe you cast a spell without knowing, Harry...no, that can't be right. Maybe someone else killed them on site? Or maybe it's some sort of unknown spell that we have no knowledge of? And what about the child himself? How did he end up here? Is he magical or a Muggle? I do remember reading somewhere that children who are half-blood or pureblood, while discovering their magical abilities in their early years, teleporting is one consistency that is known to happen...but to be able to teleport onto the grounds of Hogwarts when the castle is protected by many magical barriers and protection spells, charms and enchantments. Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain. I just don't see-"

"OK, OK," Harry said in a loud voice, quieting Herminie's babbling. "I get it Hermione,"

"That's bloody insane, init?" Ron asked, his left hand holding a bean and keeping it still, not moving at all. "I mean, why would the centaurs attack a kid? That must be against some sort of...I dunno... some sort of magical-creature human child regulation or something...The kid must have been scared out of his mind! Where is he anyway?" Ron finished, his heading looking right and left down the Hospital Wing, probably hoping to see a fatally injured child in bed.

Ron's question lit a light bulb in Harry's head; Tom! Of course! How could he forget Tom? Harry is supposed to be looking after him and make sure that he gets better! How can he accomplish that if he doesn't watch over him and forget all about him once he sees his friends! Merlin!

Harry was over by Tom's side in an instant, worrying scenarios running in his head; a picture of Tom sprawled on the floor; a picture of Tom dead in his bed from dehydration; a picture of Tom's bed vacant, Tom no-where to be seen...why was his mind coming up with all that?

Harry was happy to find that Tom's bed had not been vacant and that the child known as Tom was still in the bed, alive and, less than normal, well. The child's eyes were downcast on the white bed sheets, Harry unable to see the expression on his face.

"Are you OK, Tom?" Harry asked a little awkwardly and worriedly, embarrassed that he had left Tom's side and, ultimately, forgot about him. Harry placed a comforting hand on Tom's back; the child looked up at him with untrustworthy and anxious eyes.

"Who they?" Tom asked with a nod in Hermione and Ron's direction (Who stood a foot away, looking at Harry and Tom,).

"Oh, they're my friends," Harry answered gently. "That's Ron," Harry pointed to his ginger-head friend, who waved back at Tom with a grin on his face. "And that's Hermione," Hermione smiled at Tom and waved in a friendly manner ("Nice to meet you," she welcomed).

Tom's face still held the emotion of "untrustworthy" and suspicion.

"Don't worry," Harry reassured, noting the emotion on the toddler's face. "They're really nice and really friendly. Can they come over and meet you?"

Tom's mind seemed to be going over the answer he was giving Harry, looking from Ron and Hermione and then back to Harry, his face held tight in concentration and working something out. He only found his answer when Harry smiled at him.

He stopped.

"Yo-you...sure they nice, Ha-rwy?" Tom asked in a suspicious but cute voice.

"Very nice," Harry smiled giving a few nods.

Tom looked down, shyly. "O-kay," he answered.

Harry motioned for Ron and Hermione to come over to Tom's bed, which both did in a very tentative manner; Harry couldn't decide who was more nervous of meeting the other; Tom or Ron and Hermione?

The air in the room became oddly tense and stiff, dust forming around them.

"I'm happy your safe, Tom," Hermione gushed out. "You must be a little scared, right?"

Tom nodded his head.

"Well, don't worry, mate," Ron took over in a confident reassuring voice. "Professor McGonagall and the other professors will be able to get you home,"

Harry was happy his friends were reassuring the scared little toddler and was about to add to their reassuring comments ("I'll protect you," he was going to say...), but just as he was about to speak, the doors to the Hospital Wing opened and, noticing the very person they had just spoke about, Harry stood, along with Ron and Hermione.

"I thought I would find you here, Potter," McGonagall said in a brisk voice, dressed in her green ovals, her glasses birched on her nose, a few scrolls within her hands. "How is the child?"

"Oh, Professor...I..." Harry started, surprised McGonagall would personally come to the Hospital Wing and check on Tom; didn't she have something else to attend to? After all, she Headmistress of Hogwarts School. Surely some other issue needed her immediate attention? Oh maybe this issue was more serious than Harry thought it to be?

"I think he's doing fine," Harry answered looking back at Tom, who was doing he's best to not look at any one in particular and decided to spend his attention on his white bed sheets. "Madam Pomfery did a fine job at patching him up; he had cuts and bruises covering his body and-"

"Cuts and bruises, you say?" Professor McGonagall interrupted Harry in a startled, higher than usual voice, her hand almost over her mouth in shock. "Was Madam Pomfery able to determine how these cuts and bruises were inflicted upon the child? Did you find out, Potter? Did you find anything out at all?"

"Well...I...she said...he's name is Tom," Harry settled on, realizing how little he knew of the child and how much he didn't understand what the cuts and bruises meant; didn't Madam Pomfery have the same sort of expression on her face when she found out? Even Hermione held an expression of worry on her face; what was Harry (and Ron by the looks of it...) missing?

"Anything else?" McGonagall asked quickly again. "Any new information you learnt of the child?"

"I...err...no, not really," Harry felt really stupid; McGonagall was counting on him to find out information about Tom, but he found nothing about the child at all. Although, McGonagall didn't explicitly say that he was suppose to learn something about the child; she just assumed Harry would learn information about the child. But, wait, wasn't she suppose to find something out for Harry; And then it hit him...

"Professor?"

"What is it, Potter?"

"You...didn't...did you happen to ask Hagrid to go down and talk to the centaurs about last night's events, did you?" Harry finished in a steady firm voice, despite the sickly feeling he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"Well, yes, I did," McGonagall answered. "According to the centaurs, the heard spent most of the night looking up at the stars, looking, and I quote: "wary for the future to come," They did not mention your name, nor did they say that a child was present in the forest. In short, they say that you are lying, Potter,"

All eyes were on Harry, looking at him as if he was dark wizard.

And that was when Harry's scar started to hurt... a lot.

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**A/N:**

**Cliff-hanger ending! So what's up with the centaurs? Why are they lying about what happened and why is Harry's scar hurting? And how did to end up in Hogwarts in the first place? Oh the questions!**

**Another chapter done! Huzzah!**

**This chapter's purpose was supposed to show Harry's worriedly emotions towards Tom and, hopefully, the beginning of their bond. It was also to introduce Harry's two friends to the story, Ron and Hermione (Who I really enjoy writing, actually,). **

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Just A Keepsake: **Yeah, that's a typo. XD. I mean "Carer" as in guardian or protector; that will be edited soon. :)**

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**OK, the story is slowly picking up pace as we go along; hopefully next one will pick even more pace.**

**The ending, actually, was not even planed and out of the blue (But I knw the direction the story is going in!), but I actually like it. :)**

**Please leave a review as it really does keep me happy and keeps me motivated!**

**Share this story with your friends on Facebook, Twitter, Bebo, E-mail, etc! Thanks! :)  
**

**Thank you and until next update. :)**

**~mpkio2~**


	6. Asking Questions

**A/N:**

**I've updated! I know; I'm just as surprised as you are! Lol**

**Spread the word loud and clear: This fanfic story isn't dead! It has been on Hiatus for over a year, but I'm back now, continuing on to write more chapters.**

**Thank you so much for all of the lovely revieiws/favs/alerts this story continued to receive over the long break! – Reply to reviews are in the end A/N! I'm so happy that so many people like this story! It's received over 160 "Follows" and over 100 "Favs"! Yay! :)**

**So sorry for the extremely long wait you guys all had to endure for this update; lots of stuff has happened in the last year since the last chapter/update. Life in general and concentrating on a different fanfic are the prime reasons for the delay. **

**Anyway, enough from me, here's the next chappie for you all to read. :)**

**Sorry about incorrect spelling and grammar!**

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Disclaimer: If I said I owned Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling would probably sue against me. So, I cannot say that I do own Harry Potter or any relating characters; J. K. Rowling owns them.

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**The Power Of Love  
**Written by mpkio2

**Chapter 6  
Asking Questions**

Cackling…

Wild, joyous cackling erupted in Harry's mind…

It was cold, dark, inhuman…

_Voldermort…._

'_I have you now, Harry Potter,'_ A snake- like voice echoed all around him.

A green speck of lightning flashed within Harry's mind-eye.

_No_, he thought. _Not now, Voldermort. Not now..._

"Harry," He heard a voice callout to him. "Harry, wake up!"

Harry's eyes shot open like a lightning bolt, seeing the familiar faces of Ron and Hermione looking down at him, worry and concern etched into their faces.

"Guys?" Harry asked in a perplexed voice, not knowing where he was and how he ended up in this position; it felt like he was lying down on a bed…and…what was this weight on top of him? It felt light….warm….comforting…

What was it?

Or better, _who_ was it?

"Oh Harry, thank Merlin you're awake!" Herminie burst out in a relieved voice.

"What-happened?" Harry asked in groggy voice, trying his best to catch his breath, feeling as though he had ran a mile around the school grounds. Not only was his breathing erratic, but his forehead was dripping with sweat, Harry realized as his fingers touched his sticky skin, all signs that The Boy Who Lived had experienced another one of his "Connection Black-Outs" that he and the Dark Lord seemed to share between each other.

"That's what we wanna ask you mate," Ron said, his eyes fixed on his friend's forehead, Harry noticing where his friend was looking, hoping both Ron and Hermione couldn't see any of the obvious signs of his experienced connection with Voldermort; he hadn't shared a connection with the Dark Lord in some time, but when it happened, Ron and Hermione where close to notice. "You just suddenly got this strained look on your face and screamed-"

"I screamed?" Harry asked, his cheeks tinging pink in embarrassment.

Ron nodded. "Loudly and all," To Harry's dismay, Ron's words only deepened the color in his cheeks. "And then you just fainted on the floor,"

"It was him, wasn't it?" Hermione asked in a hushed whisper, sitting down beside Harry. "You had another connection with Voldermort, didn't you Harry?"

Harry sighed deeply, his head looking down to his clothes, knowing he couldn't hide it any longer from his friends, slowly lifting himself into a sitting position on the bed he sat upon. But before he could reveal anything to them, he was shocked and surprised to see who was lying on top of him.

There, sleeping on Harry's front, clutching tightly to Harry's robes was little Tom, snoring softly, a thumb in his mouth. Harry felt a calming, soothing sensation wash over him as he looked upon the peaceful sleeping form of the child. He was adorable and it warmed Harry's heart, controlled his breathing to normal, the sweat on his forehead seeming to vanish.

"Why is he-?" Harry began to ask as he looked down from the sleeping child to Ron and Hermione above him, a confused expression on his face.

"He didn't want to leave you," Hermione said in a soft voice, a gentle smile gracing her features as she looked down at Tom, sitting beside Harry on his bed. "When you fainted to the floor, he became scared and frightened and practically scramble towards you in a flash. Madam Promfrey and Professor McGonagall tried to separate the two of you, but he wouldn't budge. We decided to let him stay with you, seeing as his wounds were healed,"

"I guess the healing potion I gave him really did the job, huh?" Harry asked, more to himself than to his friends, looking down to the sleeping boy with green shimmering eyes. "He looks content,"

"I think he likes you Harry," Hermione said in a controlled voice, trying her best not to squeal at the "adorable-ness" of the pair; they were like brothers! Heck, they ever shared the similar shade of green in their eyes! But Hermione knew better than to show that side of herself to the boys; she was an intellect and as such had to act with more dignity. But still, she couldn't help but to smile.

"Gee, what gave you that idea, Hermione?" Ron asked in a sarcastic voice, rolling his eyes. "Its obvious the kid likes Harry,"

"I know that, Ron," Hermione snapped at the ginger head. "I was just implying how…sweet it is," Hermione finished with flushed cheeks. "Oh what am I saying?" She suddenly cried, whipping her head a little. "Harry, tell us: it was…Voldermort, wasn't it? You fainted because of the connection…"

Tom stirred a little down in Harry's lamp, mumbling something Harry couldn't decipher, though he was sure he heard the child say: "Har-wry". Remember what Hermione had asked, he decided to answer:

"Yeah, it was because of him,"

"Another connection with the Dark Lord, you say, Potter?" Came the brisk voice of Professor McGonagall, all eyes looking in her direction as she approached the trio of teens. "What happened? What did you see?"

Feeling a little apprehensive and rather wanting to tell Ron and Hermione in the comfort of their own privacy, Harry reluctantly answered McGonagall's questions.

"It wasn't a matter of what I saw, but rather of what I felt,"

"And what did you feel, Potter?"

"Happiness," Harry said, the word not fitting right in his mouth; he was speaking about Voldermort after all! "He's really, really happy! I don't know why….it's just what I felt…"

"Anything else?" Professor McGonagall asked in a strong tone, wanting to know anything else Harry might know of, any detail that might hint of Voldermort's intentions and plans. "Anything at all, Potter?"

"Green lightning," Harry replied, remembering the vividly of the green lightning that flung his way, only able to reflect it and protect himself through the strength of his will. "Voldermort…in the connection…he cast green lightning towards me,"

"The Avada-Kadava curse," Hermione muttered, everyone looking to her. "It had to have been that curse...there are, of course, many other spells and enhancements that are the color green, but only the Avada-Kadava curse properties are that of "lightning", that is what distinguishes between others,"

"That explains why you awoke in a sweat, mate," Ron pointed out as Harry felt Tom squirm beneath him; it seemed as though Tom's peaceful sleeping had come to an abrupt end and was now experiencing what all children of his age feared; their dreams. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tried to kill you,"

"Not like it's the first time he tried to do that," Harry ruffled lightly, looking down to the fidgeting toddler.

"Harry, this is serious!" Hermione cried, angrily. "Volder-mort…this whole connection of what you saw…it could be a sign of some sort…a sign which we must decrypt if we ever want to hunt down the Horocruxes and defeat Voldermort,"

"Miss Granger is indeed correct, Potter," McGonagall said with a nod of the head. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is growing ever stronger. Dumbledore left you a mission to uptake and it is your duty to continue his work,"

"I know," Harry said in a dark voice. "I know what Dumbledore had left me to do and I know how important it is; I haven't forgotten any of it….not for a second, the images of him falling off the tower over and over again,"

"Har-wy?" A small voice called from Harry's lap, alerting the teen to look down, seeing the tired eyes of Tom, who rubbed his eye with his small hand, rubbing the sleep away. "You OK?"

"Hey kiddo," Harry greeted Tom awake, placing a hand on the toddler's messy black hair. "Had a nice sleep?"

A grimaced face told Harry a mixture of feelings. "Yeah," The toddler lied, Harry feeling him tremble somewhat beneath his touch. Was his dream really that bad? Maybe he should ask? No not yet; he had other things to deal with.

"The child comes first," Harry said in a strong voice, looking up to his friends. "We will embark on our adventure soon," he promised, looking to Ron and Hermione. "But for now, my prime goal is to find out who this child is and where he comes from,"

Professor McGonagall sighed, a battle ground of emotions and rational thinking ragged within her heart and mind. Once her hand whipped away from her head, the war was over. "OK, Potter," she settled. "I trust you know what you are doing, that you know of things that are at stake,"

"I do," Harry confirmed with her with a nod and a serious expression. "Don't worry Professor, I can't forget,"

"I'm glad to hear it, Potter," Professor McGonagall said, Harry sure he saw but a small smile on her brisk face. "Now, about the child…" she started, looking down to Tom who looked up to all the people who surrounded him, a scared expression on his little face, pulling towards Harry's front as though wanting protection from the teen. "It seems as though he…"

"Tom…" Harry said, thinking it best to at least tell Professor McGonagall all he knew of the child in his laps, finding himself not liking how McGonagall was referring to him as "the child". "His name is Tom,"

"Is that all you've learnt?" Professor McGonagall inquired. A nod from Harry answered her. "I see. Well Potter, seeing how the chil- Tom – has a strong attachment to you, I think it will be beneficial for us if you ask him a few questions; where he's from, how he came about on the castle grounds, but please try to be discreet in your questioning. Just try your best, and when you have answers, come to me and I will take it from there,"

"Wha-? Me?" Harry stammered out, never in his life being asked to look after a child; what was he to do? How was he to talk to him? What if he started crying out of nowhere? "But I-"

"Har-wy?" Came the small voice of Tom on his lap, Harry looking down to see two green-filled eyes of pure trust. "You not goanna leave, are you? What about…" And Tom lifted his little finger in front of him.

Harry knew what he meant at once. He smiled and put his own little finger around Tom's.

"Your right, Tom," Harry said in a strong voice, not knowing where this sudden urge of determination was coming from; a Gryffindor through and through, he thought to himself. "A promise is a promise,"

"Potter," Professor McGonagall called, gaining Harry's attention once more, head up looking to her. "I'll leave the rest to you. It is a school day after all and I have matters to attend to. Please come to my office and give me a full account of what has been said,"

"Yes Professor," Harry said with a nod, understanding what he had to do.

"Well then, I will see you soon," Professor McGonagall was about to take her leave out of the Hospital Wing, but she suddenly stopped herself when she looked upon the figures of Miss Granger and . "And you two should get to lessons,"

"But Harry-" Ron started only to be cut off by McGonagall.

"-has a job to do which I assigned him. You two however have classes to attend,"

Feeling rather gutted they couldn't stay by Harry's side and give him moral support, Hermione and Ron both bid their goodbyes to their friend ("See ya later Harry. Tell us all about it when you see us," Ron said, "Bye Harry. I know you can do this," Hermione said) and left the Hospital Wing with MgGonagal at their heels. The doors closed and Harry and Tom were left alone in the room.

Before either could utter a word, the sound of a door opening caught their attention, Tom jumping slightly in a startled faze, holding tightly to Harry's robes.

"Ah, still here are you?" Madam Promfrey said in mild enthusiasm, exiting her office, briskly walking down the Hospital Wing and to a bed opposite Harry, starting to take off the crisp clean bed sheets replacing them with a set of new ones she had in her arms. "I thought you would have left by now, Potter, seeing how you spent most of your time in the last six years in this very room,"

"Don't remind me," Harry replied with a light chuckle. "I won't to leave this room as soon as possible," It was no secret that Harry hated the Hospital Wing; heck, even Madam Promfrey knew his dislike for the room and she didn't seem to mind. "But…I need to ask Tom here a few questions first,"

"Ah yes, Tom, how is the child?" Madam Promfrey asked as she puffed out a pillow and placed it back on the bed sheets; Harry thought it was a very tedious task she was trying to get through; no matter how many times Harry laid his head on a pillow, it was always the same; hard and lumpy.

"I think his good," Harry answered, looking down to Tom, who seemed to be snoozing against Harry's front. "It seems as though potion really worked. Thanks Madam Promfrey,"

"All in the job, Potter," Madam Profrey replied as though it was protocol to say such a thing, but Harry could tell that she greatly appreciated the compliment. "All in the job. I should warn you that the potion has a mild side-effect of making the patient a little drowsy, but he'll be OK by the end of the day,"

And sure enough, Tom was back to sleep. Harry sighed deeply; how was he supposed to get any questions out of the kid when he was in this state. McGonagall trusted him with this! He couldn't turn up with nothing!

"That's good and all, but I need him awake now," Harry said, slowly nudging Tom on the shoulder. "Tom? Tom you need to wake up; I need to ask you some questions, OK?"

"No…" He heard a mumble from the child. "No…stay…away…"

Startled by the words escaping Tom's mouth, Harry nudged him a little harder with more force. Tom looked as though he was having another nightmare, starting to squirm a little and holding tighter on to Harry's robe; was this a daily occurrence?

"Tom, wake up," Harry said loudly. "It's just a dream,"

"No…he's…got…me…." The child's voice had come to a normal volume, Harry now able to hear every word said, not liking at all what he was hearing. "Help me!" Tom yelled. "P'wease, help!"

Harry placed a soft hand on Tom's hair and started to stroke his hair, smoothly; he didn't know why he was did this and what made him do it; all he knew was that something told that this was the best thing he could for now.

Tom's eyes opened at once, his eyes darting all around him, quickly backing away from Harry and on to the white sheets beneath. He didn't know where to turn to, what to do, looking freighted and scared out of his little mind.

"Tom, it's me," Harry said in a soft voice, his green eyes looking upon the child, a hand reaching out to touch the boy. But he was surprised when Tom flinched away, recoiled and sank his head into his lap.

"No!" He exclaimed in a shaky voice. "P-wease….d-don't…h-hurt me…didn't…m-mean….i-it…"

Harry looked up to Madam Promfrey, who looked at the child with sad eyes. Not wanting for Tom to feel afraid and distraught, Harry slowly approached the child and wrapped his arms around him, engulfing him at once. Tom resisted at first, but when Harry stroked his hair softly, he calmed down immensely.

"You OK?" Harry asked, calmly.

Tom nodded, his head down, wiping his eyes with his hands and slowly rising to look at Harry with wet green eyes. "Ha-wry…"

"It's OK, Tom," Harry said in a soft voice, continue to stroke the toddler's hair. "Nothing can hurt you now," Harry heard nothing else from the child; he did, however, lean against Harry for comfort. "What was the dream about?"

Harry felt a shake of the head. "Don wanna say…"

"Are you sure?" Harry asked the child. "talking about stuff can help,"

There was a small silence before Harry felt the answer from the boy; a shake, a no. "OK then," If the kid didn't want to tell Harry anymore, all he could do was respect Tom's decision. Speaking of answering questions…

"Tom," Harry said in a soft voice, pulling the boy away from his chest so he could look into his eyes. "I need to ask you a few questions, if that's OK with you?"

A hesitant nod.

"I'll leave you to it, Potter," Harry heard Madam Promfrey call as she walked down the Hospital Wing to her office. "I'll change that bed once you leave," And with a "Slam1" from her office door, she was gone. She left in quite a hurry, Harry realized; in fact, she hadn't even changed some of the beds which were left unoccupied. And her face…that expression she held of sadness; did she know something of Tom that she was withholding from Harry?

"Haw'ry…" Tom's curious voice pulled Harry back to reality, his eyes looking down into the toddler's. "What quesdums you ask me?"

_Right_, Harry thought. _I need to ask him…_

"Just some questions about you," Harry replied calmly. "We need to know more about you so we can get you safely home to your family," At this being said, a crest-fallen expression crossed Tom's small face, his head looking down. "Tom?"

"Don have famwy," Tom mumbled in a sad voice. "Don have home," Harry really felt for the kid; he looked absolutely sad…alone…as if there was not one person in the world he who was looking out for him; Harry knew that feeling all too well, thanks to his abusive relatives, The Durseleys, he literally treated Harry as nothing but a slave throughout his childhood years, a shiver running down the wizard's back upon remembering such horrid memories.

"Then where do you live?" Harry asked, unaware of the small frown on his lips. "Where do you eat and sleep?"

"Orph'wanage," Tom answered, his tone a little dark. "Hate it," Harry could actually see the child starting to tremble, but not in fear…in anger. "Hate it lot,"

"Why Tom?" Harry asked, hoping an answer from the child, but, at the same time, didn't count on one. If Tom's experience's where anything like Harry's, he was sure the child wound not dare say a word, through both shame, anger and fear. Even at a small age, even Harry found it difficult to trust people so easily…

But then…

Why…?

Why was Tom able to speak so openly to Harry and not the others? What compelled the child to trust Harry so?

He trusted him, didn't he? Tom obviously liked Harry, that much could be said, the evidence seen through the interaction the child shared with the teen…but did he trust him?

When no answer muttered from the toddler's mouth, head still down, eyes downcast to white sheets, Harry sighed expecting the non-verbal answer he received, his initial thoughts and ideas about Tom's feelings towards the orphanage being realized. No, Tom didn't trust him…not enough, anyway, to tell Harry the horrid things that occurred at the orphanage. What could have possibly happened in that place which made the child so mute?

"What's the orphanage called, Tom?" Harry asked, thinking it best to at least get some information out of the kid. "Do you know?"

Tom shook his head. "No," the boy muttered in reply. "I don't care about name," he added in the same dark tone.

"What about the person in charge?" Harry asked, hoping Tom at least knew the name of the owner of the orphanage. "What's their name?"

"Miss Cole," The boy answered with disdain. Although Harry felt relieved that the child knew some information of the place in which he lived at, Harry also felt concerned in the way Tom answered, how his voice filled with scorn and fear. "I hate her,"

"Why?" Harry asked, genuinely curious about the child's hatred towards his caretaker. "What is she like?"

"She…she's mean," Tom seethed, Harry feeling the child tremble with anger. "She hates me,"

"I'm sure that's not true," Harry said in a reassuring voice, trying his best to calm the child's anger. Before Harry could say anything more, Tom looked up with him, a small frown on his lips.

"You wrong!" He protested angrily. "She calls me names…filth, scum…" And suddenly, Tom's expression of anger quickly changed to one of sadness, his head tilting down. "I don know what they mean…but I don like it. Kids call me it too and I hate them,"

Harry heard the abrupt sound of sniffling. "No-one likes me. No-one…" Tom whispered in a saddened voice. And just as the child was about to release a few tears from his eyes, he was embraced tightly by two strong arms that held him close to a beating, soothing heart.

"I like you," Tom heard a gentle voice say. "No matter what people say to you, no matter how mean they can be, no matter how lonely you are, just remember that you have someone thinking of you,"

"Who?" Tom's voice asked, engulfed in Harry's robes.

"Me of course," Harry answered with a slight chuckle, pushing Tom gentling away so he could look into his eyes, two green wet eyes meeting his gaze. Harry smiled, took out a tissue from his robe pocket and dried Tom's eyes. "Now, let's have no more tears, OK?"

Tom slowly nodded head. "Okay…"

"Good boy," Harry praised, rubbing his brown hair affectionately. Seeing how the child had calmed down and no longer looked as though he would break down into tears, Harry decided it was best that his questioning should continue. "I need to ask you a few more question…"

A displeasing frown covered the child's lips. "I don like qusdums,"

"I know," Harry said, not really blaming the kid for not wanting to co-operate with him. The questions he asked were bringing up some painful stuff, information Tom would rather he kept to himself. But if Harry was ever going to help him… "But, I need to know, Tom. There's only a few more and then no-more, OK?"

Tom looked up Harry with a hesitant look. After a few seconds of scanning Harry's face, Tom hung his head and nodded slightly.

"Thank you, Tom," Harry said, placing his hand on the child's hair, figuring it best to dive straight in and continue his questions. "Before you arrived here, what was the last thing you remember doing?"

"I…I was in my room," Tom answered, his head remaining looking at his lap. "Miss Cole put me there and I don know why…she does it to me all the time and I don know why…" As Tom spoke, his voice started to quieten and quiver. "Sat on my bed, held my knees…and then it was dark and it felt cold and noises, horses looking down at me and I was scared and…"

"It's OK," Harry cooed in a calm voice, a hand on Tom's back to settle his trembling. "Your safe now,"

"Don send me back," Tom said in a strong voice, his eyes looking up to the Boy Who Lived with fear and fright. "Don let them get me, p'wease Har'wry," Tom slowly stood up in Harry's lap and flung his small arms around Harry's neck, his head resting on the teenager's shoulder.

Harry didn't know what to say; he couldn't promise something that he couldn't guarantee. After all, he wasn't Tom's guardian and as so, Harry had no authority to promise such a thing. However, at the same time, Harry felt compelled to reassure the child, wanting nothing more but to protect him and to wash away the sadness which crippled his trembling body. Harry put his arms around the child, doing as much as he could to usher the toddler. It was all he could do to answer him.

"I wanna stay with you," Tom said, his hold on Harry so tight the wizard almost found it hard to breathe. "I want Haw'ry,"

And the truth was, Harry wanted to look after Tom to, but he didn't dare voice it. He just held the child tightly to let him know that he was here for him. He couldn't whisper back the answer he wanted to say for he couldn't guarantee it.

"Shh," Harry cooed, stroking Tom's hair gently, doing the only thing he could do for the toddler; comfort him. "It's OK, Tom. I'm here,"

The sound of a door opening echoed around the empty Hospital Wing, both boys looking down the hall in the direction of the sound, seeing Madam Promfrey walking out of her office and towards the two of them.

"Not done yet, Potter?" She asked as she approached both and stood with a board and quill held in both hands. "I thought you would be done by now,"

"Err…" Harry answered, not knowing how to answer; surely it took longer to know someone then – he looked at the clock – fifteen minutes? How quickly did she think Harry could learn about a boy he only meet last night? "Actually, I think we're about done,"

"Ah, good to hear it," Madam Promfrey said with a nod of the head. "Headmistress McGonagall would be pleased. But before you go, I need to take a sample of the boy's blood,"

"His name is Tom," Harry reminded the second person of the day that this "boy" or "child" or whatever had a name! "And why do you need to take his blood?"

Madam Promfrey sighed, Harry not knowing weather in frustration or tiredness. "How else would we know if he has any magical qualities in his blood, Potter?"

"We could ask?" Harry replied.

"Don't be obscure," Madam Promfrey said in a voice that clearly said "How could you propose such a thing?!". "If we asked the boy, he may not even know what we're talking about – how would a child, like himself, know such a detail of his life? Besides, by taking his blood, I will be able to acutely determine what type of blood he has, more acutely than a answer – this way we will have no doubts,"

_Yeah_, Harry thought, _But this way is far more long winded_. But Harry didn't dare to voice his opinion, not if he wanted a whack of the head by the matron standing before him. He opted to keep his trap shut and go along with what Madam Promfrey had in mind, even though he didn't really agree.

"Why couldn't I ask-?"

"Because Headmistress McGonagall wanted an "actuate answer, Potter," Madam Promfrey answered, as if she had read Harry's mind with Occulancy. "She'd told me to allow you some time to talk to the child before I under-go the procedure,"

"Oh," Harry answered not liking the fact that McGonagall didn't tell him any of this. It was like they were making decisions of what to do with Tom without Harry's consent and he really didn't like how- wait…Harry's consent? Since when was Harry Tom's guardian? Where did that thought come from anyway?

"Har'wy," Tom's fearful voice pulled Harry back to reality, looking down at the child, who looked up with green eyes. "What happening?"

"Tom," Harry said, smiling gentling to the boy. "Madam Promfrey here," Harry inclined his head to the matron – Tom quickly looked to her woefully and returned his attention back to the teenage wizard. "Needs to find out some important medical details about you,"

"Will it hurt?" Tom asked, pulling close to Harry, who looked at Madam Promfrey as if asking the questions to her.

"Not to worry," Madam Promfrey replied, readying a small syringe out from her pocket, cleaning it sterilised water. "I just inject this syringe into Tom's arm and that's it," If Harry wasn't hearing wrong, he was sure Madam Promfrey was speaking in a gentle voice, and did she actually just call the child by his name?

Harry nodded his head, thanking her for the reassurance. "See," He spoke gently. "You heard Madam Promfrey. Just a small injection and then all will be over,"

"But I don't want-" Tom started in protest.

"You're a brave boy," Harry said. "And besides, I'm here with you. So can you do this, for me?" Tom looked up into Harry's gentle eyes and after a few moments of searching, of unspoken words of trust and care, Tom nodded his head.

"OK," He answered quietly.

"Good boy," Harry praised, looking to Madam Promfrey, who held the syringe in her hand ready. Tom's eyes darted fearfully to the syringe and pulled away closer into Harry's chest, his eyes closed tightly, buried in Harry's robes, his left arm outstretched, allowing Madam Promfrey to proceed with the procedure he was fearing.

With Tom's sleeve pulled back, Madam Promfrey dabbed a part of his skin with a cotton wool ball and injected the syringe. At once, Harry felt Tom's muscles tense up, Harry guessing that the kid was trying his best not to cry, his body trembling slightly in Harry's lap. After a few moments, Madam Promfrey removed the syringe an d covered the small hole with the cotton wool ball, instructing Harry to apply pressure to it which he did so.

Madam Promfrey held the syringe now filled with some of Tom's blood, took out her wand, pointed it to the object and muttered "Determinaine," In a flash, the syringe flashed a brilliant white and glowed in a turquoise color. At once, she dotted something down onto her board with a quill.

"It's over now," Harry said hugging the toddler. "You did very well, Tom,"

"Indeed he did," Madam Promfrey said, handing Harry a green lollipop in the shape of a wizard. "It will dull any pain," she quickly explained.

"Here you go," Harry said giving the lollipop to Tom who took hold of it and licked it. His expression was a little less intensified and popped the sweet into his mouth gratefully. "So, what are the results?"

"Half-blood," Madam Promfrey said as she finished dotting some details down. "Headmistress McGonagall will want to know this," She handed Harry the board. "Give her this medical sheet when you see her,"

"OK," Harry replied quickly scanning over the sheet of paper before him – it was a piece of paper with some of Tom's details – his name, age, the condition he was in when found, condition now and blood type.

"I presume it will be your job to fill in the blanks," Madam Promfrey noted out, as she turned on her heels and walked back down the Hospital Wing. "Don't keep the Headmistress waiting,"

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed, his voice echoing off the walls, standing to his feet with Tom in his arms, he had, out of side-effects to Madam Promfrey's potion, fallen asleep, snoring slightly in a peaceful manner.

"Please keep your voice down, Potter," Madam Promfrey scolded in a strict, frustrated voice, turning to face Harry with a serious expression. "This Hospital Wing is a place for students to rest, remember?"

"Sorry, Madam Promfrey," Harry apologized, although he didn't see here he was in the wrong – there were no students resting in any of the beds currently! What students were he gonna wake? "But, last night, you said you were worried about Tom….why?"

A pause. The sound of owls hooting from the nearby Owerly could be heard out of from the open window, the sun shining in bathing the two in golden sunshine.

"I was afraid your little story was true," She suddenly confessed. "The one about the centaurs. And when Headmistress McGonagall revealed that it wasn't, my worry that the bruises and cuts inflicted upon that child were at the hands of other creatures other than magical ones were realized. You've spoken to the child, haven't you Potter?"

Harry nodded his head in answer.

"Then tell me, do I speak an ounce of truth?"

Harry said nothing, for, even though Madam Promfrey did speak some truth, Harry wasn't entirely sure how much was true and how much wasn't. His head slowly lowered as Madam Promfrey sighed.

"Tell the Headmistress," she said as she walked towards her office. "About the child, where he lives and how he got those cuts and bruises. Tell her, Potter,"

And before Harry could raise his head and ask her anymore, she slammed the door behind him, leaving him alone in the Hospital Wing with a sleeping Tom in his arms.

_Tell her,_

"I will," Harry answered to the closed door down the Hospital Wing. "I'll tell McGonagall everything I know,"

* * *

**A/N:**

**Well, there you have it; another chapter for all of you patient people out there. I hope a year's wait was worth it! :p**

**Again, I'm sorry you guys and gals had to wait so long for this thing, but I'm back and I'm still gonna continue with it! It still lives! :D**

**Anyway, the purpose of this chapter was for Harry to learn more about little Tom and to put an end to why Madam Promfrey has been so worried over the cuts and bruises seen on Tom's body – If you didn't get it, she thinks he's been abused by his parents/guardians. I also wanted to show the connection between Harry and Voldermort was still intact even with Tom at such a young age – this will be important in future chaps. And of course, I wanted more interaction between Harry and lil' Tommy! :)**

**Please leave a review if you want me to continue writing. Show your support. Thank you. :)**

**See you in the next update.**

**~mpkio2~**


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